Diary of a Mad Man
by Eddy Leonhartslover
Summary: A dark story that takes place in the most frightening place of all Vergil's mind. Vergil is locked up in an insane asylum for his own safety and the safety of those around him. Rated M for later content. This is AU,  Earth .
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: First and foremost I do not own the rights to Devil May Cry, mores the pity.

_Authors note: I would like to apologize to everyone that has read this so far. When I looked over the summery I wasn't happy with it and wanted to change it. And couldn't get the blasted thing to cooperate. So here is the first entry all over again. Also for the sake of story flow I have Sparda being Nero's father in this._

_Warning: There will be some mild Yaoi later on and some disturbing content. I will warn ahead of time on each entry._

_Diary of a Mad Man_

_First Entry: Death to Traitors_

I am going to kill my brother when I get out of here. Why you may ask?Because in one of his greater moment of idiocy he had me locked up for what was deemed my own safety. He said that the doctors and the psychiatrist that were on staff could help cure me of my delusions of grandeur. The only thing that they have managed to do other then irritate me, is convince me that my so called delusions were actually real. One of the therapist had the inane audacity to say that I was a megalomaniac. There is no thinking about it I know I am a megalomaniac. But why they consider it a mental disorder is beyond me. I am wealthy and when my powers have not been bound I am extremely powerful. As for my thinking that I am omnipotent…huth…there is no thinking about it I am godlike. No I do not think that I am a god but I do have phenomenal cosmic powers, itty bitty…shut up! Shut up! Shut up! I am not going to start quoting movies again. I refuse too.

But I digress from my early thought, that is one of the side effects from the medication that they have me on to supposedly keep me from having 'bad thoughts' and wanting to hurt myself. How do I tell them that I don't want to hurt me, but them. I want to kill them all and let the god that they say that I say that I am sort them out.

I was told by my psychiatrist that I should start keeping a journal to write down my thoughts. They must think that they are dealing with an idiot. I know why they want me to do this so they could monitor me and try to find out what makes me tick. Why I am the way that I am.

How?

How can they possible get a realistic view of me when they have me so pumped full of drugs that I rattle when I walk. There are the antipsychotic, antidepressants, the pills to get me up and the ones to make me sleep. Then there are the pills that I have to take for the constant pain I am in.

Along with one on one sessions with my psychiatrist there is also group therapy. Listening to some of the other people there I realize that compared to some I am sane, where others I am stark raving lunatic mad.

I do try and most of the time succeed in keeping my tongue rolled behind my teeth to keep from saying something scathing and detrimental to another patient…see inmate. Why? You may ask is it because I have gone soft. Not at-tall. It's because that if I don't behave I am not allowed certain perks.

Right now I am confined to my room. Who would have known that adults can get a time out as well as misbehaving children. _'Now you sit there and think about what you did wrong.' _Huth…oh yes that is really going to work. If mother had done that to Dante and I the only thing we would have done was plotted how to get away with it the next time.

See what I mean about the medication that is one of the side effects to one of them. I can be having a perfectly rational contestation and my mind starts to wonder. I had mentioned certain perks for good behavior, well they have promised me that if I learn to play well with others, (and share my toys), that I will be allowed among the general population again, instead of confined to my room.I really have been good for the past two days I've kept the scathing comments to a minimum to the staff. I really did hope that my therapist kept his word, today is visitor day and Dante is supposed to come and visit me. I hope that he doesn't bring that 'her'. That woman who looks like our mother. I wonder if he's fucking her. There are some nights that despite the fact that they have medicated me that I wake with that thought pounding in my brain. And they say that I have psychological problems. Wouldn't that be boarding on an Oedipus complex? But my brothers demons are his own to slay I have enough of my Dante does come to visit me, I hope he remembers to bring me some of my books there is only so many times that you can read outdated copies of Readers Digest. I just hope that they let me have them without confiscating them. Oh they would probably allow some of them but definitely not the Alexandre Dumas. Mustn't give the crazy man any ideas on escaping. Like I haven't thought if it everyday since my confinement. If I only had my powers I would have no trouble in escaping.

One of the guards is here telling me that I have a guest. There will be more of my ramblings later.


	2. Chapter 2

_Second Entry: Let them eat cake_

When I arrived at the visitors lounge I was pleasantly surprised to find that yes Dante was accompanied by a guest. One of the last people in the world I had expected to see. Not Trish, but our father. Our father who had reentered our life eighteen months ago. Our father who hadn't gone off and died somewhere like we had thought, but had been captured and had been held as a prisoner himself.

He had shown up on the doorstep of Devil May Cry with a younger version of Dante and I in tow. A boy whom he introduced as Nero. Dante of course welcomed them with open arms. But I couldn't. I couldn't do it. Not after everything that had happened. He had let us all down. Father, husband, hero. He had been none of those things to us. His family. He beloved wife, mine and Dante's mother, he had left her to die. To be murdered. And my Dante alone, since I was drug down into the pits of hell and been subjected to things that a child should never even have to think about let alone have happen to them.

That is neither here nor there and it is his story to tell. He has his share of personal demons just like I have mine. I did eventually forgive him. After all who was I to sit in judgment of what had happened to him. He certainly didn't judge me. In fact when I told him about what had happened to me he did the one thing that I never expected. He cried. Hitting his knees in front of me he wrapped his arms around my legs and begged for me to forgive him and told me how very sorry he was that had happened tome. How he had never meant to abandon us. How he would live with guilt of Eva's death for all eternity.

He had his own demons to slay. And I couldn't…No…I wouldn't have him exorcise mine as well. That was for me to do. He was broken under the weight of his own cross. How could I throw the weight of my own burden on his back?

Yes I forgave him and part of the weighted guilt that I had been carrying with me was eradicated. And for a while my heart and soul felt lighter. And I felt free. But that was to change when new chains came to bind my soul. Chains made of the hardest metals of all.

Guilt and despair. Anger and self-loathing. Fear, hatred, the links that had been forged by all these emotions spiraled into infinity.

Dante had gone back into hell to retrieve my body after he had defeated Mundus. Most of what I am about to write is second hand knowledge so please bear with me. He told me that he wanted to make sure that I had a descent burial, that no matter what I had done, I was still his brother.

He hadn't come alone on his quest but had been accompanied by his self-proclaimed best friend a man by the name of Deacon Jones. After several hours of searching they found my body not where I had been slain but in one of the lower recesses of hell where some of the lesser demons had taken my corpse to make sport with it. For you see, during my enslavement to Mundus I was a power to be reckoned with. The sound of my voice or even the mention of my name would cause that ilk to tremble in fear and if they had been even remotely humanoid, piss themselves in terror.

If I had known what Dante was doing, I would have cursed him for being an idiot but now when I remember all that he did for me to get my body and even my spirit free I would sing his accolades from the rooftops.

When they found me I had been stripped of all my glory. My corpse had been as violated in death as it had been in my life. My clothing was gambled away to the highest roll of the dice. I had nothing. I was nothing. And if it hadn't been for Dante and Deacon I would have not been remembered at-all. Not even as a footnote in some annuals of slew most of the demons and those that he didn't kill scattered in all directions. He knelt by my battered nude body and removed his beloved trench coat and wrapped me in the soft red leather. He had Deacon gather my weapons and what he could find of my clothing and once this was accomplished had carried me out into the late afternoon sunshine.

Dante crawled into the backseat of Deacon's car and held my cold stiff body close to his warm one. He told me later that he was hoping that the heat from his body would seep into my limbs and bring me back to him.

When they arrived back at Devil May Cry, Dante had carried me up to his room and had washed away the stains of my shame and dressed me in my finest feathers. He had insisted that I be buried at sunset just as the light was leaving the sky and if he could have somehow arranged it, he would have had it rain. Had the heavens open up and weep out their sorrow. I never knew that deep under that crusty sarcastic exterior that he shows the world my Dante, my Taye, has the heart of a bard. He had arranged for my coffin to be taken to the top of a hill that overlooked a field of wildflowers. See what I mean about him having the heart and soul of a bard?

Before he could entomb my body I was called back from the edge if the abyss that I was ready to be flung into. The purgatory that I deserved for my sins and crimes against humanity. What called me back from the edge? I felt rain drops on my face. A warm rain that felt so very good to my tattered broken body. Rain that watered the barren wasteland that was left of my soul. I heard it then. The soft whisper of the wind sighing, 'I should have never left you my Vergil.' And I knew. I became acutely aware that it wasn't the wind talking to me and it wasn't rain falling on my face. That sweet beautiful sound was my Dante's voice and the rain was the salty stream of tears that were falling from his eyes.

Dante called me back from the very brink of my own damnation. I remember shuddering before I opened my eyes and looking up at that handsome face. I coughed and still trying to be the hard ass I wanted to ask what had taken him so long. But I didn't at that point in time I knew it was okay for me to be a little vulnerable. Later I could be a total bastard, but for that moment I just needed to be held by him. By 'my' Dante.

I felt my lips tug up in a smile when I saw that father was carrying a small round chocolate cake that was liberally decorated with chocolate butter cream frosting and small white lilies, my favorite flower. My mouth started to water at the site of all that luscious richness. Even though the cake was small it was too much for me to eat in one sitting and I wondered if I would be allowed to keep it or would the staff confiscate it.

It my father, that silver-white haired imp of Satan that talked the staff into letting me keep let me keep it. It probably helped that the blue eyed devil flirted outrageously with them and they couldn't resist his charm. I knew at that point that if my father could ever be persuaded to harness his powers for evil that he could and would conquer the world. And I would be right by his side when he did it.

Now where was I? Oh yes, the cake. Damned medication has made me scattered brained. I had to laugh later when I cut myself a section of cake out. My father, angel, devil, and the bane if my salvation put a nail file under the cake. I have the file hidden behind the tank of the toilet. Wouldn't do to have the guards or any other staff member find it.

Dante didn't fail me, he did bring me several books and as I predicated they confiscated The Count of Monte Cristo. But I allowed me to keep the book of poems and the Shakespeare.

I am still very angry with them for having me committed. No matter if it is for my own good. All in all we did have a very good visit. Dante promised that he would talk to the staff about letting me have some of my own clothes. Since what they have provided is offensive to my flesh. What in the hell is rayon/polyester blend. Just the sound is an affront to my nature. I miss my silk, satin and cottons. Oh and I mustn't forget the leather. God how I miss the feel and the smell of leather. Especially the leather that Dante has worn. That musky smell that only he carries with him. No! I will not think about that. Thinking about Dante in that way makes me want him. Dante has also promised that when he comes to see me again that he will bring me my own hair care and skin care products. Do you have any idea at all what I found while fixing my hair. A SPLIT END! My delicate skin is getting dry and flaky in places. I would compare this place to hell. But I've been there, and the service that the demons provided was much more appealing to my nature. Dante gave me a whispered promise as he hugged me goodbye that even if he had to murder someone or have himself committed he would try to arrange a conjugal visit for he and I. That alone put a smile on my face. They just announced that dinner is ready and I wonder what mystery meat is going to be on tonight's menu. I sincerely hoped it was not hotdogs. I knew how they were made and what went into them. And personally if I wanted something round and fleshy going into my mouth I preferred Dante. Besides I knew what he is made of.


	3. Chapter 3

_Entry 3: So Many Pills, So Little Time _

I am on restriction. Again. This time it really wasn't my fault. What did they expect for me to do when the ward nurse had the inane audacity to say that I was a homicidal maniac? I showed him exactly how homicidal and maniacal I could be when I shoved his head under the automatic bed and started to lower it down...oh so very slowly. His screams of pain and his begging for mercy brought help and I was knocked out and put in restraints.

I find it very humorous that the guards carry tranquilizer guns when they have to deal with me. You'd think they were terrified of me or something. What could I have possibly done to make them fear me? Other then lowering the bed down on the nurses head. I have been a model prisoner…inmate…patient…whatever. Oh alright, I admit that I walk around and talk to myself out loud. Damn it! What do they expect? I have to have someone as intelligent as myself to talk to. Otherwise I would really go mad, insane, loco, crazy, around the bend, have toys in my attic, be so far over the rainbow I may as well be in OZ, be one summoning short of a full possession, my elevator doesn't reach the penthouse, unhinged, w…

And there it goes again not being able to keep a clear and concise thought in my head for more then five minutes at a time. This is the main reason that I am keeping a journal, so I can not only keep track of days, but also my thoughts. Which sometimes I wonder if they are even my own anymore, or are they subliminal messages that are being fed to me.

I am so very glad that no one else is reading this, otherwise they would probably label me as being overtly paranoid. Which would add even more pills to my daily I had written earlier I am on restriction and due to this I am not allowed visitors. That fact makes me very angry with not only the staff but myself as well. I was looking forward to seeing Dante again. At least I was allowed to have the basket of goodies that my Dante brought for me. My hair and skin feel wonderful and are not only silky soft but smooth as well. And my bed, ah the glory of 800 count Egyptian cotton sheets, they feel quite wonderful thing against my skin at night. Now all I have to do is try to behave long enough to be allowed my own clothing.

I think that I may have mentioned earlier that the doctors have me on a medication, one of the many, that is supposed to make me work and play well with others. How do they expect me to do this? When 'they', the other's that I am supposed to get along with do not realize that I am their superior in every way.

One of the psychiatrist has debated with me about my intelligence. He was shocked into silence when I told him that I am far more intelligent then any person here, especially him, and as soon as everyone realizes that fact things will be so much easier for me. AND THEM! Especially them. Otherwise my new life's ambition is not to successfully raise the Temin-Ni-Gru, but to make the rest of their miserable insignificant lives as miserable as resulted in an anti-psychotic to be added to my already heavy regiment of medication. How is telling someone that I am far more intelligent then they are psychotic. I was only stating a fact. As for the medications that I am on, the warnings vary for each one…May cause drowsiness, may cause insomnia, may cause loss of appetite, increase in appetite and the list goes on. So far there have been two that I have had troubles with that I didn't list. The first being the fact that I am easily distracted now. And the second, well a conjugal visit with Dante would take care of that. Lose of sex drive my left testicle.

I AM AS HORNY AS A DRAGON IN RUT. A SHE DEMON GONE INTO HEAT.

If I don't get laid soon someone is going to die


	4. Chapter 4

_Disclaimer: I still do not own the rights to Devil May Cry nor do I own the rights to The Wall by Pink Floyd, but I do have the CD. I also do not own any part of the Star Wars Empire. Just borrowing a quote from Yoda._

_Warning: Some Yaoi_

_Entry 4: The Wall_

I am still on restriction and I was going to miss visitation day, but Dante charmed the staff into letting me see him.

Today is a good day for me so far and one of those days that I really love Dante. Tomorrow I may hate the very air that he breaths, but today, today I love him and not just because the last three hours of his visit was spent with me flat on my back with my legs wrapped around his waist while he drove into me over and over again, bringing me to not one but three very pleasurable orgasms.

…Wish I hadn't thought of that, because it makes me want him again. Makes me want to be on my knees in front of him taking him in my mouth or having him pounding me into the sheets, or bloody rotten hell I am frustrated once more…

Where was I? Oh yes, that's right. Dante's visit. After he left I went through the box of goodies that he had bribed the staff into letting me have and I not only found several changes of clothes but also a small stereo and a wide variety of CD's. Among the CD's I found Pink Floyd 'The Wall'. As I sat and listened to it I realize that even though I had listened to it several times before, and thought that I understood what the person was going through I never really got the subtle nuances of it…until you took out the music you would have some of the most epic poetry ever written. Each song is a stanza in an even greater work, and to quote Roger Waters, 'just another brick in the wall'.

What is that wall? It is a fortress that we build around ourselves so nothing can get in to harm us even more. Each brick is a traumatic memory from our past. A domineering mother, sadistic teachers, an absentee father whom abandoned us at an early age, or was

'henpecked' by his wife, a wife/spouse who really doesn't understand us and the list goes on into infinity. Until the wall around us gives us the solitude that we think the we want.

_Sitting in a bunker here behind my wall Waiting for the worms to come In perfect isolation here behind my wall Waiting for the worms to come_

As for the worms that we are waiting for. Who or what are they? The worms are the things that we are hiding from to begin with.

But in the end the wall does come crashing down, and we are left even more vulnerable then we started out surrounded by a pile of rubble that used to be a fortress of those suppressed memories, and a man named Joshua had nothing to do with its destruction. No blasting trumpets or marching around the wall. Just the feeling that someone, somewhere is mocking our pain.

I read somewhere or heard somewhere that in order to truly understand the concept of The Wall you had to watch the movie when you were on mind altering drugs any hallucinogen would work. I think that is just a bunch of crap either written or spoken by a small minded person with no forethoughts of their own. So here I am listening to The Wall for the fifth time today driving the other patients even more crazy then they already are.

_Crazy, over the rainbow I am crazy_

_Bars in the window_One of the therapist came by to inform me that tomorrow I would be allowed to join group again, and that there was somebody new and that I should be on my best behavior and that I needed to be nice.

Nice? Since when is that in my job description? Let me see here according to my psychopathic resume' it does not say that I am nice. Please do not even try to convince me that it can be penciled or inked in, because an eraser and white out work wonders on that sort of did extract my promise that I would to try not and intimidate the other patients anymore. I gave him an evil smile as the thoughts of , 'you did not put restrictions on any less you fool'. As for the try? Why am I suddenly hearing Yoda saying, 'Do or do not, there is no try.'

That irritates me. The fact that I did not hear voices before I was locked up for my own safety but now I am, I need to check the warning labels on my medication again to see if any of it leads to that. At least I'm not a paranoid schizophrenic nor do I feel that there is someone out to get to close for now so I can check under my bed, in the closet and shower before I go to sleep. Oh yes and the light fixtures just in case they have hidden cameras in here.


	5. Chapter 5

_Disclaimer: I do not own Devil May Cry, Bozo the Clown, Phyllis Diller, nor the names of Cobra Commander, Destro, and Zartan. Or any of the lines from Full Metal Jacket._

_Author's note: No this is not a crossover. Read on and you will know why they are listed in the disclaimer._

_Entry 5: I Am Not Insane_

As it says in this journal entries title I am not insane, maybe a little touched, but definitely not else in Casa de Cuckoo is stark raving bonkers! How do I know this? Two simple words…group therapy.

Group therapy, is now the bane of my existence. I know, I know that I had said earlier that my father was, but after this lovely experience, I have to change it. Tomorrow it may be something else entirely. But just for today it is group , the group that I am a unwilling participant in, not we as an myself and any other personalities that I may or may not have. Heaven only knows what medication that I would be put on if I had multiple personality disorder or dissociative identity disorder. But I digress, we were discussing the different aspects of each of our problems, when the councilors said that my main issues that I needed to focus on was that I was a not only a megalomaniac, but that I also thought that I was omnipotent.

When he then ask me how that made me feel, I replied that I did not for one moment think that I was god. That I knew for an undeniable fact that I was a devil, and asked if they had a problem with that. As for being a megalomaniac, why should I fantasize about fortune, fame and power, when at one time I had had all three. Not necessarily the power that I wanted and needed. But the wealth? Let me put it in layman's terms, the number that is at the bottom of a mere human's checks, what most consider either their routing number or account number. That's my balance. And no you can not have a loan.

I sat back and started to file my nails with the nail file that father had smuggled into me. Forgetting, thanks to the medication, that I am not allowed to have sharp pointy objects. The file was confiscated and when asked where I had gotten it I replied that I had used my evil powers and conjured it out of thin air and that if it wasn't returned to me that they really wouldn't like the next thing I made appear. Somehow they had forgotten that my father had bound most of my powers and that the wards that were placed around Casa de Cuckoo held me in , for some reason they believed me and my precious...precious it is precious to me, must get the precious. Damn it why do movie quotes keep popping into my head? Note to self: Do not tell them that you are hearing voices now. That would add schizophrenia to the growing list on my psychotic resume'. Anyway they returned my nail file to me which made me very happy. Before any other questions could be asked or my mental state was once again attacked our session was disrupted. The disturbance was caused when a new patient was brought in to join our group.

It may have been disturbing for everyone else but not for me, since I knew him. Our newest member was none other then Deacon Jones. The very same Deacon Jones that had followed Dante into hell to retrieve my body.

Deacon Jones with his frizzy flaming red hair and manic eyes, made him look like the love child of Bozo the Clown and Phyllis Diller. In the time that I had known him he had the over exuberance of a poodle on crack. And personally he had the tendency to get on my nerves, but he was Dante's friend and had risked his life to help my beloved so therefore I tolerated him.

Security brought him in and flung him down into one of the chairs. The councilor who had earlier accused me of being a megalomaniac, quickly glanced through Deacon's file and said, "Mr. Jones it says here that you were caught in a compromising position with one of your fellow officers, and that when your superior tried to reprimand you for your lewd conduct you popped a couple of rounds at him and hissed and spat like a snake. Is that a correct assumption?"

Deacon replied, "If that's your fancy chancy way of saying that I was getting my brains fucked out by Destro, and shooting at Zartan for having the audacity to interrupt us, I would say that was right. Why didn't you just call me a murderous raging nymphomaniac instead of using all that mumbo jumbo you could make a guy's head hurt." He hadn't said anything about his snake like behavior. "As for this Mr. Jones that you keep calling me, I have no idea what you are talking about."

The councilor looked at him and asked, "Oh really? And who are we?"

Deacon arched a flame red eyebrow and said, "I have no idea at all who you are but I am Cobra Commander." He looked around the room and saw me and in seconds and was undulating like a hyperactive cobra on his way across the room to where I was. He went from seriously believing that he was Cobra Commander to Vietnamese prostitute when he started to quote from Full Metal Jacket.

Hey baby you got girlfriend here?

Well baby me so horny. Me so horny.

Me so horny me love you long time.

Before anyone had the chance to react Deacon had straddled my lap and was rubbing against me. I had never found him attractive in that way and he was making me grow hard with need and I knew he felt the evidence of my arousal. Of course you would have had to been paralyzed from the neck down and eyebrows up not rotated his hips against mine and continued with teasing me.

You wanna party? Me love you long time.

Me so horny.

Me sucky sucky.

Me love you too long.

Swveral of the guards came over and tried to yank him off my lap, but Deacon wrapped his legs around me and the chair and the only way he was going to be moved is if they brought in more guards and not only risk hurting him but me as guard who had him firmly by the upper body was trying to reason with Deacon and he continued to yank and pull him asking if he was crazy and saying that I was a dangerous man.

Deacon replied, "He is not dangerous I am dangerous." Then started to hiss. How he managed to hiss and lisp at the same time is beyond me and it came out sounding more like 'hith.'

As for me, the only thing that the yanking and pulling did was cause more friction on my hard aching manhood. I felt like I was going to burst free of the confines of my skin tight leather's if this didn't stop. "Cease and desist." I growled and managed to get my hands between our bodies to try and shove him away from me.

Deacon didn't stop but grinned at me like a demented imp and continued to bounce around on my lap. Reaching down he tried to yank open my fly and release me for all to see, but the guard who had been trying to get him off of me had reinforcements now. Two had managed to get his legs unwrapped from around my waist and the chair while the other two yanked him off of me.

I drew in several deep ragged breaths finally regaining control of my lust. I needed release and if Dante were to walkthrough the door I wouldn't have carried if it it put me on restriction or not. I would have coolly fucked him in front of everyone. The once a week conjugal visits with my Dante weren't enough. I watched as several of the guards dragged Deacon away from the group. The two who remained turned on me and raised their rifles and were going to load me with tranquilizers when the therapist spoke up and said that I wasn't the cause for the disruption, and I managed one of those rare smiles that vanished when he added, although ...for once.

I sent out a silent plea to Dante, telling him that I needed him. I just needed right now, and it wasn't only the sex that my body craved, but also the closeness. The lovemaking after the lovemaking. The closeness that Dante and I used to share, the touching and the kissing and the talking.I wasn't sure what else was discussed in group, since my mind was on other things. Like Dante's hot muscular body. I do know that it was carried out without any further interruptions and another session has been set up for tomorrow.

At dinner tonight I got in trouble again when I found that hot dogs were on the menu. And stated in no uncertain terms that if I wanted something round and fleshy going into my mouth I wanted it to be Dante's cock. That was the start of the problems, what escalated it was the fact that there was a fresh fruit tray set up with a variety of apples, oranges and wouldn't you know it banana's I did not drop my jeans and fuck myself with a banana what I did was perform fellatio on it. I guess it wouldn't have been so bad if I hadn't kept calling it Dante.

I am not sure what the name for my new so called psychosis is, but I have had yet another pill added to my list of daily medications.

"What was that?" Have to go for now, Dmitri is talking to is Dmitri, why the name of one of my other personalities of course.


	6. Chapter 6

_**Entry 6: Warning this medication may cause**_

**Another day another psychosis, I am seriously worried about the side effects of one of the latest medications that I am taking. I am now having visual and audio hallucinations. Last night I was suffering from yet another bout of insomnia and looking out my window I saw a group of children dancing and playing in the sunshine. The sky started to grow dark and yet they played on. The playing stopped when a clown appeared out of the gloom and started to lead them away. Once the last child had walked down that path the sky cleared and more children appeared to continue playing where the first group had left off.**

**Forcing myself away from the window I lay back down and closed my eyes trying to grasp some semblance of meaning form what I had just witnessed. That was when I started to hear things. Call my psychotic if you want to, but I heard a strange clicking. I tried to tune it out but it did not seem to help and I knew that even though I could not sleep that I would get no peace at all unless I found out where that infernal noise was coming from. That damnable clicking. After searching for what seemed like several hours I discovered that the noise was coming from the hallway or at least I thought it was. But when I looked out my little window there was nothing there, still the clicking continued**

**As dawn approached I finally got a reprieve, the noise stopped and I was finally able to close my eyes for a brief amount of time only to be disturbed by a staff member telling me to get up and get dressed that breakfast was ready and that today was going to be spent in group. If I would have had a place to hide the body I would have cheerfully murdered him and went back to sleep. **

**After an exciting breakfast of cold runny scrambled eggs, something posing as bacon, dried toast and weak coffee it was time for group. As I have stated earlier group is the bane of my existence but for this one moment I was actually looking forward to it. Not necessarily group but to seeing Deacon again, he has added entertainment in my otherwise dismal group started I pulled one of my psychiatrists aside and asked if Dante could come and visit me more then the once a week, the visits were never long enough, since most of them were spent with the staff discussing my prognosis, and that the biweekly phone calls were always interrupted for some inane reason or another. **

**I miss my Dante so very much, and if you tell him that I will deny it with my dying breath. I miss being able to wake him up at 2 or 3 o'clock in the morning just to talk. He would pretend to be outraged but he really wasn't. Or waking up in the comfort of his arms and finding him awake watching me sleep. I miss his kisses, the sweet spiciness of his breath, the feel of his tongue sliding in and out of my mouth. His lips and his teeth as they travel across my mouth. I miss the feeling of his hands on my body. I miss him. **

**My psychiatrist did tell me that he would see if he could arrange for Dante to come and visit me more often, but only if I'm on my best behavior and if I can actually manage to get through a week without being put on restriction or causing some sort of havoc then he will arrange a weekend pass for me. Now I have something to look forward to 48 hours of alone time with Dante. 45 hours of uninterrupted love making. Why only 45 instead of the entire 48, we would need to eat some time.**

**He didn't do it literally, if he had he would be spending the rest of his miserable existence without an arm, but figuratively he patted me on the head and sent me off to group. I don't understand the point of group anymore, it is supposed to help us learn how to cope with not only our feelings but also other peoples. To take their feelings into consideration above our own. When it's my turn to share I try to tell them what they want to hear but it is never right and I am berated for it, for not delving deep into my psyche and say what's really bothering me. **

**If I actually told them what was really bothering me they would never let me out of this place. They would put me in one of those nice little jackets that buckle in the back so I couldn't harm myself or others. **

**I know I should tell someone that I am having horrific nightmares, but I don't see the point in doing so, all that would happen is I would be given yet another pill to deal with it. I was given a new pill this afternoon this one is to keep all the others from making me ill. I wish I could talk to someone about this. But who?**

**Please Dante...Please come and help me. **


	7. Chapter 7

_Disclaimer: I do not own the rights to the DMC verse nor any of the song bits used here, they belong to the artist who preformed them. I also have no claim to Nurse Ratched, she is from One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest._

_Entry 7: Comfortably Numb_

Group this morning was as uneventful as watching the grass grow. Once again I did not share my feelings. Which I have been severely reprimanded for. I was asked why I didn't and told them I couldn't. They told me that the sooner I shared my feelings the sooner I would start healing.

Healing? The wounds that I have go much deeper then they can even imagine. How do I make them understand that I have no feelings left. And I do not know why.

I am numb!

_Hello, Is there anybody in there? _

_Just nod if you can hear me. _

_Is there anyone at home._

I no longer feel like there is anyone home. I used to be intellectual but now I have trouble forming coherent thoughts. And my moods fluctuate from severe depression to being manic.

_Come on now, I hear you're feeling down _

_I can ease your pain_

How can they ease my pain when I no longer no what causes it. Running my hands through my hair reaffirms my belief that I have not been given a lobotomy. Since my hair is still there and I feel no scars. I did manage to pull Deacon, or at least I hope it was Deacon, aside after group and with a series of hand gestures I conveyed the fact that I needed to see my brother. Why can't I remember his name?

Nurse Ratched has come into my room to give me another injection. Trying without success to reassure me that it's…

_Just a little pin prick _

_There will be no more Aaaaaaaaaaaah!_

And that once the medication takes effect that…

_There is no pain you are receding _

_A distant ship smoke on the horizon_

And she was correct in her assumptions. There is no more pain, there is nothing…

_I have become comfortable numb. _

_Is there anybody out there?_

Can anyone hear my silent screams? I am lost and alone in my nightmares. I want to go home. But I can't remember where home is. I need to talk to Dante. Who is that? Who is Dante? That is right he is my brother. I need to tell him what they are doing to me. I tried to talk to him when he was here yesterday, was it yesterday…

_Yesterday all my troubles seemed so far away_

_Now it looks as though they're here to stay_

…but he was in such a hurry to leave that I didn't have the opportunity to.

Is he ashamed of me?

Does he still love me?

How can he love me when I hate myself. These questions and more plague me and give me nightmares.

I find myself asking yet again...

Is there anybody out there?

**Psychiatrist Notes: The patient shows signs of self loathing and is starting to display the signs of having a persecution complex . If he does not start sharing his feelings in not only private sessions but also group, either an increase or change in his medication will be needed. I need to speak to him about his feelings of isolation.**

_Authors note: First of all thanks to everyone that has read and reviewed Diary. Even though I am using certain tidbits of songs this is in no way a song fic. The ones that are used fit Vergil's mood at that point on time. _

_A small bit of trivia for you on One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest, it was filmed at the state hospital in Salem Oregon, which happens to be my home town. And no it was not the inspiration for Diary of a Madman._


	8. Chapter 8

Entry 8: _This Little Piddy…Went Crazy_

I can actually think today, which please me greatly. My brain no longer feels like space filler to keep my skull from imploding.

Today is visitation day and since I was a good boy and not only ate all me vegetables but played nice with everyone else I was allowed to have a visitor. When I arrived at the visitors lounge I saw Dante speaking with one of the staff members. I wondered what lies they were telling him about me. Dante glanced across the room and saw me and ending the conversation approached me. After salutations were exchanged it took all my will power not to drag him off to my room and let him take advantage of me. That did not happen and the reason why is that I became very angry with him.

I tried to tell him about all the medication I was on and how it effected me and all he did was hug me and reassure me that it was for my own good and that even though he really did want me to come home that right now wasn't a good time, that according to the staff at Casa de Cuckoo, I was still a danger to not only myself but those around me. Therefore it didn't matter that I had been on my best behavior. That I had been a good boy and had eaten all my vegetables or that I had played nice with others I was not going to get my 48 hour pass.

He then told me that perhaps it was for the best that I didn't come home. Now I really hate him, and he knows it as does everyone else here when I screamed at him that I hated the very fiber of his being and that I didn't want to see him ever again unless he was there to bring me home.

I wanted to kill the smirking bastard when he winked at me flexed his spectacular biceps and told me that he would be back on Tuesday for conjugal and that he loved me. Damn him! Damn him for the blue eyed devil that he is. If I would have had Yamato or been able to use my powers I would have killed him.

He reached forward and ran his fingers down my cheek and my anger started to recede, and I wondered what power he had over me. How can he do that? How can I hate him one second and love him the next? How can I never ever want him to touch me again and then all he has to do is smile or flex his biceps and I 'm ready to start humping his leg. Tripping him and beating him to the ground.

(note: This is written in a language that mortals can not usually understand, that is why it appears in bold and italics)

**_I have discovered something else, when Dante does come to visit some of the medication looses it effectiveness, i.e. having higher brain functions again not feeling so isolated. This is one thing that I will never reveal to anyone here. I don't want to loose my visits with Dante. That's why I am writing this particular part of my journal in a language that I learned while in hell. I want to keep some of my thoughts private. I should have thought of this when the therapists and psychiatrists first told me to keep a journal of 'my' thoughts. Little did I know at the time that they were reading it and using it against me in therapy. I found a note at the bottom of my last entry from Doctor Kevorkian, that's not really his name but will be what I refer to him as in my private thoughts. But I digress, I found a note from him about me, and now I question myself on rather or not I should deliberately fuck with the staff here, just to see how far I can push certain things before either they snap, or I do._**

Looking down at my feet I asked, "What?" Only to discover that my feet are not happy with me since I haven't named my it had never occurred to me to do so. Now I need to sit and talk to them to find out what they want their names to be. And no they will not be happy with being referred to as 'This little piddy.' How do I know this? I asked them and was informed absolutely not and if I insisted on doing so they would sing to me. For some reason I believe them.

I feel like Andy Dufresne in The Shawshank Redemption he wasn't a criminal but being sent to prison made him one. Me, I wasn't crazy before I was committed, but now I am stark raving full blown lunatic bat shit crazy.

Looking out my window I see the guards chasing Deacon Jones across the yard yelling at him to stop that escape is futile. And all this time I had thought it was, 'I am Locutus of Borg. Resistance is futile. Your life as it has been is over. From this time forward, you will service us.' How could you not love that man, Borg, whatever.

One of the staff has come to inform me that dinner is ready. I smiled up at him and said, "I am Vergil of Borg. Resistance is futile. Your life as it has been is over. From this time forward, you will service us. Prepare to be assimilated."

**Psychiatrist Notes: The patient is showing sever signs of delusional thinking. I will speak with the physician and see if there is another medication that we can start him on to cure him of this.**

**He is also writing in some sort of code which reaffirms my previous prognosis that he is not only paranoid but has a persecution complex.**


	9. Chapter 9

_Authors Note 1: As before what is written in italics and is bold faced is that special language that only devils can comprehend._

Entry 9: Don't try Suicide...Especially Somebody Else's

Why? Why does this always happen to me? No matter what those imbeciles say I do not have a persecution complex. have been on lock down for the past several days. It really wasn't my fault...this time. All I did was answer a question and receive a gift. What is so wrong with that? Apparently a lot. I was sitting at one of the tables minding my business and drawing, Dante had brought me a sketch book and charcoals on one of his visits. They confiscated the pencils of course. Mustn't let the homicidal maniac have sharp pointy object now should we. They haven't tried to relieve me of my precious nail file again. I honestly think I scared them when I slapped down that very big gauntlet daring them too. Anyway I digress, I was sitting there sketching out quite a lovely, but graphically violent picture of my therapist with his head stuck in a Cuisinart food processor, when one of the ward nurses invaded my personal space and came up behind me and looked over my shoulder and asked me what I was doing.I thought that it perfectly obvious what I was doing. So I replied sarcastically, "Contemplating his suicide. What does it look like I'm doing?"

Three days of lock up was my punishment for that homicidal outburst. Three days to think about what I had done wrong. You want to know what lock up is? It's time out for psychopaths. I would have preferred a spanking, but they wouldn't let Dante come to visit me. Damn it! I wanted a spanking. I think I have said this before that the only thing that time out does is give you time to think about what you did wrong...and how not to get caught the next time you I was released my sketch book and charcoals were returned to me with the warning that I deviate away from drawing pictures of people being tortured, maybe I should try drawing furry little animals. Anyway, I was minding my own business, again, this time sketching pictures of fluffy bunnies and duckies it was all oh so cute I wanted to gag myself with Yamato but that no weapon rule put the kibosh on that. My mind started to wonder about how much damage would be done to these fuzz balls with a sub-automatic weapon. Flipping the paper over I started on an new sketch this one of Dante as a chibi, with Ebony and Ivory drawn blasting bunnies and duckies into the afterlife. I did the little thought balloon above his head and wanted to have him laughing like a maniac. But I couldn't figure out how to write out evil laughter. I could hear it perfectly in my head but I could not figure out how to write it. How the hell do you write evil laughter? Hum? Well that will give me something to think about the next time on 'time out'.I finished that sketch and started on a new one and was deep into my drawing when a long slender box was dropped without warning on top of my latest creation this one of Dante and I entwined nude in our bed. I looked up to see who had dropped the box and found myself staring into the Nordic blue eyes of my little brother Nero who had skipped school to come to see me without father or Dante. I sat the drawing and the box aside and we sat and talked for the next hour. After he left I picked up the box and instead of waiting to open it until I got back to the privacy of my room I opened it in the common room and pulled out a set of very lethal looking knitting needles. I was very confused I don't know how to knit. Why would Nero give me knitting needles?

I had plenty of time to ponder this question when I was drug off to lock down again. See not my fault. So I as I sat in time out, I had plenty of time to ponder why my little brother would gift me with knitting needles. Then it struck me like one of those proverbial bolts out of a clear blue sky, they could be used as a weapon. When they finally came around to question me about who had given them to me I got another day tacked on to my sentence when I did a perfect Edward G. Robinson impression, and replied, "No way copper, I ain't no stoolie. You ain't gettin' nuttin' outta me."

_**Besides I knew if I told them who had given me the knitting needles I would more likely then not loose visitations from my family. **_

I thought it was funny. And I'm sure Dante and my father would too. The staff just does not appreciate my sense of humor. Huth, what should I expect? As I sat in my second lock down of the week I seriously thought about several things. One was if I would get to see Dante on Valentines Day. I seriously hoped so. The one picture I had been working on was for him. The second was trying to stay out of trouble, even though it seemed to follow me around like a shadow. The third was evil laughter and how to put it in print. I actually came up with a very good one, muuhwoo ha ha ha. Now if I could just have it come across as dark and sinister it would be perfect.

Sunday was Valentines Day and Dante came to visit me. This time it wasn't for the mere two hours that usually was allotted for visits, but all day. I got to spend the entire day with my Dante. The sun had barely peeked it's head over the horizon when he showed up. That would have been more then enough gift for me since I knew that he didn't usually drag his lazy carcass out of bed until it was mid morning. We went to my room where we made love with each other for several of those hours. I had finished the drawing and gave it to him and he loved it. He gave me a box of chocolates and new sheets and a comforter for my bed. It didn't bother me that they were red, since that was his favorite color.

Other then the love making a wonderful thing did come from this visit, Dante was here when they brought around my morning and afternoon medication and he was stunned at the number of pills that they have me taking as well as the injections. When he asked if that was it, I answered him truthfully that no I also had a like number given to me before bed each night along with even more injections. He promised me that he would talk to not only the doctors but also father about it and see if something else could be done. As Dante and I kissed goodbye he held me close and told me that he loved me and that if I continued to show improvement that I would be able to come home soon.I watched him leave and went back to my room safe in the knowledge that Dante loved me and only me, as I loved him and only him. I remade my bed with the 'Fuck Me Red' sheets. I am serious about the color, I looked on the tag and that is what it said...Fuck Me Red. I spread the comforter across my freshly made bed changed into my pajama bottoms slid into bed, snuggled up with Pooky and waited for Nurse Ratched to come around with my night time medication.

One of the new pills that I am now taking has an added side effect that I don't mind and that is that I no longer dream. No longer am I plagued by nightmares that have me screaming myself awake. Nightmares that are so real that I could smell and taste and feel everything that was happening to me in them. Nightmares that have me doubting my own sanity. Nightmares that leave me shaking and wondering if I am still Mundus' slave and the two years that I got to spend with Dante were nothing more then pipedreams.

_Authors Note 2: I just wanted to thank everyone that has read and reviewed so far. There is more to come really soon. I had started writing this way back in February of 2009, before DMC 5? was even conceived. _

_Kind of Spoiler: Not sure if any of you have seen the trailer for it or not but in it a character named Dante? is the one that is locked up for evaluation. The reason I question the character being Dante is that he has black hair, his eyes are not blue, he smokes and he looks anorexic. This is not meant to offend anyone that does smoke, but I can never picture one of our devil boys smoking. _

_That being said if this did not have DMC plastered on it or the main character was not named Dante it actually looks like it could be fun. _


	10. Chapter 10

Disclaimer: I do not own the rights to Devil May Crynor the character from Final Fantasy mentioned in this chapter. The short bit of Unwell is the proerty of Matchbox 20.

Entry 10: Rainy days and Mondays

I have managed to do a lot of searching, soul and otherwise. My soul searching showed that yes I do indeed have one, it may be slightly tainted and tarnished beyond redemption but I do have a soul. The other searching showed that I am not crazy. Even though I am locked away in Casa de Cuckoo.

How do I know that I am not totally and completely stark raving lunatic bats-shit mad?

Because, because I'm not and because I said so.

I know that you have to admit that you have a problem before it can be fixed. My question is this, how can I admit that I have a problem when I have no idea at-tall what it supposedly is. Each day that passes adds a new and more interesting disorder to my never ending list of mental disorders. It's getting to the point that I can't remember them all. As I sit here waiting for group to start I briefly wonder if they even know what's wrong with me, or if they are just guessing and have decided to keep me so heavily medicated that the therapists and psychiatrist's don't have to worry about a proper diagnosis as long as that monthly check my father sends them keeps coming in. As for the staff I do suppose that it is much easier for them to cope with a person who has been drugged into a walking and talking coma.

_I am feeling particularly gloomy and depressed today, it is Monday and it is raining. The last thing I am going to do is tell anyone that I am depressed, the only thing that would succeed in doing is add yet another disorder to my resume', more likely then not bipolar disorder or seasonal depression. I know for a fact that it is not bipolar disorder nor is it seasonal depression. The weather today had nothing to do with my depression. It didn't matter that it were raining since the day she was murdered the sun was shining and the sky was that beautiful blue that usually only occurs in October so it was unusual for it to be that clear and crisp in mid-February. _

_I was snapped out of my musings by the arrival of the group therapist, before I raised my head I blinked away the tears that have gathered in my eyes and silently chanted the mantra of 'mustn't show emotions'. I could not, no would not let them see me cry. All that would do is open up a discussion about why I was feeling this way. What had managed to chip through the fortress of ice and penetrate my heart and soul and cause me to show that I was all to human._

_There was no way this side of hell that I was not going to let them know that today is the anniversary of her death, how apropos that it fell on a Monday and it's raining as if heaven was mourning her loss as well. Although I don't see why heaven should be crying Dante and I lost our mother, our father lost his wife and heaven gained an angel. Once again I sat quietly in group and for once I was not reprimanded for it. _

There was a bright spot in a dismal day. I suppose it did help that most of group was spent discussing Deacon Jones' newest psychosis. He no longer thought that he was Cobra Commander nor a Vietnamese prostitute. He was now convinced that he was a character from a video game. And not just any character he demanded not only that everyone address him as General Sephiroth but also the return of Masamune.

And this is why I say that I am not crazy. I know who I am I am Vergil Angelo Sparda. I am the eldest son of Dominic Christoph Sparda and Eva Angelina. Twin brother of Dante Armand and elder brother of Nero Constantine. But I am not now nor have I ever been crazy.

I may be slightly impaired…no…no…no, I am not going to start quoting song lyrics again. Damn too late…

_But I'm not crazy, I'm just a little unwell _

_I know, right now you can't tell _

_But stay a while and maybe then you'll see _

_A different side of me _

_I'm not crazy, I'm just a little impaired _

_I know, right now you don't care _

_But soon enough you're gonna think of me _

_And how I used to be_

I hate the fact that I can't keep a clear and concise thought in my head for more then five minutes at a time and that I'm easily distracted. Oh look keys! Just kidding.

Group ended and I was on my way back to my room when I heard my name being called. This was not good. I used to be so much more alert. Now I was lucky that I didn't get my throat slit by some loon who would finger paint with my spilled blood. The only thing that kept a panic attack from engulfing me was that I recognized the voice that called my name and I smiled happily it was my Dante. I was to him in the space of a heartbeat my arms wrapped around him my lips pressed against his.

Dante smiled down at me and confided that when he first showed up he wasn't sure where I was since today wasn't one of our normal visiting days. But they did let me have special visit's on anniversaries other special days. He smirked and added that he did make up some just so he could visit me more often now that he knew how much seeing him meant to me.

I smiled at him and said, "Thank you for that Dante. And thank you for today." I knew that he knew. But Dante being Dante was to ornery to ever admit that he was soft hearted he was also to effervescent to get depressed and even if he did he did not stay that way for long. He gave me a wolfish grin and leered, "How could I forget the anniversary of the first hard on you gave me."

I smacked him on the arm and I told him to behave and he gave me his standard answer that being good took all the fun out of life. He grew serious and kissed me tenderly on the mouth and whispered against my lips, "I miss her too." I stood there in the hall and just let him hold me and he confided in me that he was going to have to start being careful on his special days and anniversaries, he didn't want to have his visit's restricted. He did admit to me that it pissed him off that he couldn't come and visit me whenever he wanted to since father was paying for me to be there. He proceeded to call the staff a string of colorful names and ended his rant by saying, that he should be able to come and visit me everyday if he wanted.

Then handed me a letter, before I could open it he ran his calloused fingertips down my cheek and said, "You don't know how tempting it is to let you come home babe, but we need to be sure that you are ok before we can allow that." Tracing his thumb over my lips he continued with, "I'm worried about you baby." Then he cupped my chin and kissed me softly once more and promised that he would be back on regular visiting day and we could spend more time together and that he would bring a picnic lunch for us. He gave me a saucy wink and one more lingering kiss and promised to bring something extra special for dessert.

I watched as he walked away, leaving me alone once again. Looking down at the envelope, I recognized the writing as my fathers and went to my room and opened the letter.

I read:

_My Dearest Son,_

_It pains me more then you will ever know that I could not be there today of all days to mourn with you and Dante over the loss of your beautiful mother and my beautiful wife. It has come to my attention that you are doing somewhat better as long as you focus on your own well being and mental health. _

_Vergil, I know that you feel guilty for your past sins but that is what they are my son past sins. The staff has informed me that they are concerned with your lack of participation this concerns me also._

_You are there to heal Vergil and the sooner you come to grips with this the better you will be. Your mental health is more important then anyone else's my beautiful son._

_I am sorry that I have not come to visit you, it pains me too much to see you there. Know that I miss you and love you my beautiful son._

_Your father,_

_Dominic Christoph Sparda_

I folded the letter and thought of my father's words, he was right I did need to heal myself. I could not keep toting around all this emotional baggage. No matter how much it pains me I need to eradicate this cavalier and cold attitude. As much as it pained me to admit it I knew that, my father was right in his assumption about my mental health being the most important thing right now. So I will make an effort to try and participate in group, and will be more open with my therapist.

It is getting close to dinner and I couldn't help but think that I was going to really enjoy Dante's next visit. Especially the…dessert.


	11. Chapter 11

_Disclaimer and warning: I do not own the rights to the Jelly Belly name. There is some mild yaoi. _

Entry 11: Dessert with a fiend

In my last entry I mentioned that on his next visit that Dante had promised me that he would be bringing a picnic lunch for us with a special dessert. Dessert was him going down on me for an hour and dear god in heaven he has skills my Dante does. The way he used his mouth and tongue on me was reminiscent of a well trained courtesan. Dante proved that he was proficient in the art of gratification and could pass an oral examination without any difficulties. Each time was like the first time and the last time and I wanted to return the sweet favor that he was bestowing on me and told him so. But he shook his head in the negative which caused me to chuckle and moan at the same time.

Moan from the pleasure and chuckle over the fact that even with his head buried in my lap hilt deep, Dante did retain some of the manners that mother had tired to instill in us and that was never to talk with your mouth full. I know that that my horny devil of a brother would find it funny as well since Dante has a quirky and bent sense of humor on some things.

After he had brought me he licked his way up my tight abs and stopped to nibble on my nipples before he brought his mouth up to my neck and bit me. Bit me hard enough to mark me, his fangs extending and sinking in to the tender flesh just enough to bled me as well.

He sucked and licked away the small rivulets of blood then growled, "You like that don't you baby? You like it when I mark you as my bitch? Whose bitch are you Vergil?"

Normally no ones, but he had bitched me. With that hard bite on my neck and the drawing of my blood he had found one of my carefully concealed triggers. One that only he knew about. No one else knew it, other then he and I. That thing that I kept hidden so very carefully was the fact that…

_**...I WAS A PAIN JUNKIE! There were times that it got me off and I knew that if Dante continued his assault that I would be nothing more then just a writhing heap of spent lust.**_

_**It had been way to long since I had my pain fix. I moaned loudly almost pleading for him to continue hurting me. He ground his hips hard against me but didn't continue, instead he got up crossed the room and locked my door. Not wanting any interruptions for what he was going to do to me.**_

_**As he sauntered back over to me he very slowly unbuckled his belt and yanked it out of belt loops in a hiss of leather against leather. His voice was deep throated when he asked, "Have you been a bad boy Vergil?"**_

_**My reply was a mute nod of yes. I couldn't trust myself to speak, knowing that I was at the point of being so far gone in my lust for him that it would just be incoherent gibberish.**_

_**He smirked down at me and asked his voice still low and deep, "Do you know what happens to bad boys Vergil?"**_

_**I couldn't answer, I wanted to, but I couldn't. In the next instant I found myself flipped over on my hands and knees and I heard the belt whistle through the air and felt the sting of leather on my ass. Leather…sweet, sweet leather. It was one of mine and Dante's closets companions. I groaned out in pleasure pain. Not wanting him to stop yet.**_

_**His arm raised again and he delivered another smack on my derrière, "Answer me Vergil or I will stop giving you what you want. What happens to bad boys?" He demanded his voice was harsh even though it was laced with lust.**_

_**I managed to make my tongue work and I panted out, "They get spanked."**_

_**"How very**** right you are." Dante replied and continued raining down swats on my ass. I had gone past the point of being rock hard to painfully so, and bringing one hand up while continuing to rest my weight on the other arm, I worked my swollen length back and forth while Dante continued to spank me. When my pleasure broke yet again I cried out his name followed by our stop word…."Jelly Bellies."**_

_**Jelly Bellies were one of the few candies that I actually like that is not chocolate. Dante and I have been on the receiving end of several bizarre stares in candy stores when we have both started to laugh at how many different flavors that those wonderful little confections come in.**_

_**Before he left Dante pulled me into his arms and kissed me tenderly and said softly, "You're not only my bitch Vergil. You are also my princess and I will always be there to rescue you." He handed me yet another gift before he left. promising that he would be back soon to see me again, and that no matter how much father protested he was going to drag he and Nero along as well. He hugged me closer and tighter and said, "You need your family Verge." He unlocked the door glared and at the locksmith that they had called in to break into my room that had a door that supposedly could not be locked.**_

As I opened my new gift from Dante I started to scowl over the fact that he had brought me a tee shirt. But the scowl quickly changed to a smirk when I saw what was written across the front of the stark black t-shirt in silver letters was written...'Be Evil! The Pay's Better.' I eagerly anticipated Dante's next visit so I could wear it for him, showing how much I appreciated the gift.

Later that afternoon I was still basking in the afterglow of Dante's love and was actually allowed outside to get some fresh air. I secretly wondered whom Dante had had to bribe or kill for me to be allowed this privilege.

Of course I wasn't alone I had several armed security guards following me, and for once it did not bother me. Like I stated, I was feeling warm and well loved and I actually did feel like a the princess that Dante had compared me to before he left. I had one of those rare flights of fancy and did not see them as someone who would shoot me down like a rabid dog in the streets, but as my escort. Guards who were there to guard me and make sure that no harm came to me.

When my walk was complete I was taken back inside and ordered to my room to wait until the dinner hour. I gave them a barely discernable nod of yes and walked down the hallway towards my room to do as I was told. I was trying and somewhat succeeding in conforming to their rules. If only things would have continued to flow in my favor. But fate is a fickle bitch he loves to fuck peoples lives up. Instead of being able to go to dinner I am sitting her in my room waiting patiently for the local authorities to arrive and take me to jail, which will eventually lead to my being sent to prison.

I arrived back at my room to find out that I was being robbed, one of the men turned and held out the taser unit to warn me off. "Now you just stay back boy and you won't get hurt."

His partner in crime joined him by bringing the rifle that I knew from personal experience was loaded with enough tranquilizers to drop a bull moose and said, "Yeah, just tell us where you have your valuables hidden and we can forget this whole incident."

Even though father had bound my powers I was still incredibly strong and fast and I reacted without thinking. No matter what anyone tells you, you can shove a body through security grating and shatterproof windows.

How do I know this I did so to the man that held the taser on me. The one with the gun found out that no matter how hard you try you really can't hold your breath while your head is in the toilet and said toilet is being flushed repeatedly. I shoved his head through the tile wall of my shower and growled, "What do you mean we human?"

Neither survived, which is why I am on my way to prison. I was allowed to call my father who reassured me that he was going to contact the lawyer that he kept on retainer and make sure that I would not be going to prison. Since all I did was defend myself and my

Despite my fathers reassurances I knew that I would be leaving Case de Cuckoo I looked around my room and knew that the cell I was going to get in prison was going to be nowhere near as comfortable. Plus I wasn't going to have any of those nice amenities. There is no way that anyone could consider gang rape in the shower a conjugal visit. I was informed that because they had a prison psychiatrist that my medication would continue. I suppose that I should be relieved about that since I would definitely have something to be depressed about.

Running my hand through my hair I wondered what I was going to do to get myself out of the situation that I had inadvertently gotten myself into.

I can hear Dante laughing and saying that if I weren't already in the nut farm I could claim temporary insanity.

And I would respond the way any well bred gentleman would…by flipping him off.

_**Thinking about Dante had caused the diabolical wheels to start turning. He had always said that if I could just learn to channel my powers for good and not evil that I could lead an army into hell and they would willingly follow me. That with my power of persuasion that if I could make people believe anything I wanted them too if I really tried. He had also said that it was too bad that I was probably one of the most honest people on the face of the earth. He was correct in that assumption. I didn't lie. To me there was no point to it. It was not one of those idioms of the truth setting you free. It was more along the lines of 'admit the truth and shame the devil.'**_

I knew that Dante was right. I could do it. Not lead an army into hell, let's not be ridiculous. Well I could, but this situation didn't warrant something that extreme.

All I had to do was get clearheaded enough to figure out what to say and I knew that it had to be very plausible and heartfelt. For a brief moment I considered faking it, but I knew that Dante would see right through that and maybe just maybe start to believe that I really was a homicidal maniac.

I sat with my hands folded on my lap waiting patiently for Dante or someone to show up and help me. All thoughts of faking fear and remorse vanished when the door opened and I looked up and saw Dante, several members of the staff and five very big uniformed police officers.

Before anyone knew what to expect I was off the bed and in Dante's arms explaining to him what had occurred, "Dante, all I did was defend myself and my property."

"What happened Vergil?" Dante asked me his voice full of concern as he held my body that was suddenly quaking against his steady strong one.

"I came back to my room to wait until I was summoned for dinner, and I found them in my room. One of them drew that rifle on me and the other threatened to use a taser on me and they demanded that I give them my valuables. All I did was defend myself and what is rightfully mine Dante. "

"By shoving one of them through a window?" A voice asked incredulously. "He needs to be locked up."

I knew that Dante was getting close to loosing his temper and when he did he would go into full majin, "Or I could just kick the shit out of all of you."

Doctor Kevorkian responded in smooth tones, "Please gentlemen let's not be rash or hasty in our decisions." He smiled benignly at us and continued, "We can all discuss this tomorrow. When we are all more clear headed. Mr. Sparda will be held here until our attorneys can determine the best course of action to take."

When Dante started to protest he raised his hand and said, "He either stays here or the authorities will take him into custody." His voice was oily as he added, "You of course are more then welcome to stay with him."

I pulled my head away from Dante's shoulder and said, "Please stay. I was very frightened Dante." Then I started to shake and I knew that I was coming down from that adrenaline rush that had coursed through my body.

Dante pulled me close and whispered softly, "Baby, my sweet princess, I'm not going anywhere. You were defending yourself, those idiots shouldn't have been in your room to begin with. They," He paused and pointed to the staff members, "were being negligent, and now they're trying to do something to punish you when you don't deserve it." Dante glared at them and said, "What I would like to know is how in the hell you could hire such incompetent imbeciles that don't know their asses from very large holes in the ground. Now get the hell out of here." He picked me up bride style and carried me over to my bed and lay down with me, while the room was quickly vacated.

The trembling had finally subsided and I cuddled in closer to him and whispered, "That's one of the things that I love about you Dante. How well you quote the vernacular." I lay my head on his shoulder and fell asleep.


	12. Chapter 12

_Entry 12: Napoleon, the Neanderthal and Me_

I was woken from my sleep by two people arguing. I recognized Dante's voice but the other I hadn't heard before. It soon became apparent that whomever he was he was obviously in a position of authority.

The other man in my room glared up at Dante, who towered over him by a good foot, and in a voice that dripped with condensation said, "Now you listen to me Mr. Sparda…"

He was abruptly cut off by Dante saying, "Mr. Sparda is our father, the name's Dante. Understand? Dante. Now, what in the hell could you possibly want that can't wait."

He had the audacity to glare at Dante, and it became apparent that he had a Napoleon Complex. He poked his finger in the middle of Dante's chest and when he continued he spoke like he was addressing a mentally challenged five year old, "Now just calm down and let me explain in simple terms since you obviously don't understand how dire the circumstances are."

I sat up and wondered what he could of possible been thinking. Dante is anything but stupid but there are certain people in certain walks of life that treat him like he is. All they see when they look at him is a mountain of muscle. Granted it was hot and sexy muscle, but still muscle, and it was all mine.

Dante sneered and said sarcastically, "Make sure to use really small words, on account of I didn't get no proper learnin' and I ain't as smart as you are." He looked over the smaller mans head his Nordic blue eyes sparkling with mischief and winked.

I rolled my lips over my teeth to keep from laughing or smirking, mustn't let these inferiors see that I actually had some emotions left.

I groaned inwardly when la petite merde continued, I suppose he figured that since condensation obviously hadn't worked to intimidate Dante he would try insults instead, "Let's get something's straight you muscle-bound Neanderthal, your brother was put in here for his own well being as well as the safety and well being of those around him. According to his psychiatrist and the therapists, it was not a moment to soon. Your brother…" He looked over my file and continued, somehow glaring up at Dante and looking down his nose at the same time, "…has severe personality disorders, is a paranoid schizophrenic, is manic depressive, bipolar, has multiple personality disorder, is narcissistic, a homicidal maniac, has suicidal tendencies, has anger issues, delusions of grandeur, is a megalomaniac, is convinced that he's omnipotent, is emotionally stunted…" he paused to look at my file again, and not knowing when to shut up he opened his mouth and offered almost like an afterthought, "Oh yes, he's also a drama queen and a pathological liar."

I knew that being called names didn't bother Dante, nor was it any of the seemingly never-ending list of my psychosis's that had been rattled off. It was the fact that the man had had the inane audacity to call me a pathological liar. That was all it took, Dante doubled up his fist and punched the man dead in the face, sending him sailing out door where his progress was stopped when he hit the wall on the other side of the hallway.

"Watch what you say about your betters." Dante snarled at him. "Verge may be many things but he is not now nor has he ever been a liar." He didn't pursue our antagonist instead he slammed the door hard enough that it stuck firmly in the frame and would take brute force to get it open again. He pounded back over to the bed and plopped down on beside me then yanked me into his arms where he held me close to his body and rocked me back and forth, muttering darkly under his breath that father needed to get his decrepit old ass in gear and get me the fuck out of there or he wouldn't be responsible for his actions the next time someone pissed him the hell off.

Sitting in the comfort of Dante's arms I felt myself starting to doze off again. He felt so warm and so good and I felt so very safe nestled against him. Before sleep could claim me completely Dante stood me before him and undressed me for bed, helping me into my pajama bottoms, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth, since he knew as well as I did that if we were home I wouldn't be wearing them.

Dante tucked me into bed and stripping off everything except his pants he slide into the too narrow bed beside me, pulled me in closer and once more I rested my head on his shoulder and fell asleep to him murmuring in my ear, "I wish we were home in our bed baby."

I'm not sure how long I had slept nor am I certain what it was that had awakened me, all I knew was that I was frightened and that I was not alone, there was someone in bed beside me. This was not right. I knew where I was and I was not allowed overnight guests. I was supposed to be alone.

Was I dreaming?

I heard a soft snore come from my bed partner and my fear ebbed away. I knew from that little night noise that it was Dante that was in bed with me. I couldn't remember why he was there, but even with him in bed beside me I was still afraid and I damned if I knew why.

When we were three years old father had told Dante and I that there was nothing to be afraid of in the night or in the dark, he had said in that soft cultured voice, that we were Sparda and Sparda's do not have nightmares. We bring them.

Even though I remembered those words as clearly at this moment as when he had first spoken them they did little to appease me. They did not vanquish my fears. Thousands of questions danced through my head. Questions that had no answers, questions that I wasn't sure that I wanted the answers to.

Why? Why was I so afraid? I wish that I knew, I wish I could remember what it was in the dark that terrified me so very much. When it used to have no power over me. I did know one thing and that was long as Dante were here with me I would be safe, but in my heart and the very depths of my soul I knew, I just knew that as soon as Dante left they would hurt me…again.

Again? When had they hurt me before? I shook my head trying to clear the haze that clouded my memory. I pressed my body even closer to Dante's and felt his muscular arms tighten around me and heard him mumble something in his sleep about being my hero. God he felt so damn good. I wanted to crawl inside his skin where it was warm and safe, where nothing could hurt me.

There it was again. That knowledge that there was something in the night. Something that was here that only came out at night and made me do things that I don't remember doing. Things to humiliate me and to hurt me. I could recall in vivid detail each and every degradation that had been heaped upon me while I was a child and later when I was not only a teenager but also Mundus' slave. Even though I was more then certain that I didn't want the answers, there was that perverse longing that I wanted to know. Wanted to know what it was in the night that had frightened me. Double damned movie quotes…'They mostly come out a night mostly.' Thus spoke Newt from Aliens...and she was right they come out at night. Whoever said that what is in the dark is also in the light, has never been where I am. If they had been then they would know that there are things in the dark that fear the light.

Dante stirred slightly in his sleep kissed me on the top of my head and pulled me over and on top of him and held me even closer and tighter and murmured, "I will always be your light Vergil." He sighed then and I knew that he was still sleeping, talking in his sleep, but still sleeping.

More then anything, I wanted to go fall back to sleep cuddled on top of Dante, whom despite his hard muscular body made a very comfortable mattress. But my bladder was starting to ache and even though he was holding me tighter then an octopus on steroids. I whispered softly in his ear, "Dante I need to use the bathroom." His arms loosened and I slid off his body and made my way to the bathroom.

After I finished draining my bladder I walked back into the bedroom and just stared at my lover. He is a scrumptious feast for the senses and gives eye candy an entirely different meaning. I knew that if I stared long enough I could very well wind up being diabetic. I couldn't help myself I just stared at him and felt my blood sugar go through the roof and my IQ dropped by at least 100 points. In his sleep he looked vulnerable and had an unsullied innocence about him, but there was also an aura of complete decadence those unspoken promises of hedonistic pleasure.

I must have been more fatigued then I had first thought. Instead of my body responding to his, I let out a jaw snapping yawn.

Dante opened his eyes and held his arms out to me and said softly, "Come back to bed princess."

Once I was back in bed with him I rested my weary head on his shoulder and succumbed to sleep held in the strong embrace of my hero.


	13. Chapter 13

Warning some of the content of this post could be a little disturbing nothing graphic just hints at rape and torture

_13: This is your wake up call…Wake Up!_

Once again I was in hell and this time I knew that there would be no escape for me. I was trapped as securely as a rabbit in a snare. Trapped in the horrors of my mind. Trapped in nightmares that were regressed memories, since the most horrific nightmares are based on fact rather then fiction.

I was being dragged from my room again by the staff and several security guards; I don't know why they felt the need to have so many when I was drugged into a catatonic oblivion. Even if I had wanted to fight back, I couldn't, since I was unable to move or protest what they were going to do to me. Before I was committed to Casa De Cuckoo my father had bound most of my powers so I couldn't hurt anyone, including myself. That may have bound away my demonic strength but I was physically strong without them. Granted I couldn't bench press a car, but I would have been strong enough to struggle and hurt some of my captors, but like I have stated I was practically comatose from all the drugs that they fed into my system.

But I digress, for some reason I knew that I would be able to remember the atrocities that I was subjected to. Remember for a short amount of time but more drugs would be administered and wipe those memories away as easily as an eraser applied to a chalkboard.

Why now? Why could I see and remember every little detail and nuance? Why could I feel what was being done to me? Why could I smell the strong scent of disinfectant mingled with the stench of blood, death and cheap perfume? Why were they doing this to me?

Why?

So many questions and no answers. The questions burned like acid in my brain and the answers were as fleeting as dandelion fluff in a windstorm.

I was drug into a room that was in the basement and was forcibly strapped face down to a table, little electrodes were put on my head and I knew they were to monitor my brain activity, a rubber bite plug was shoved into my mouth to keep me from either swallowing my tongue or gnashing my teeth together. Surgical tape placed over my lips to keep the plug in place and to stifle my muffled screams of agony.

If I closed my eyes I could block it out. Block out seeing what they were doing to me. I felt the needle enter my arm and felt the cold rush of the shot they were giving me. The medication to make me feel. Make me feel the sharp blade of the scalpel as it bit into the base of my neck cutting deep into my tender flesh.

I didn't have to see it to know that blood dripped down the sides of my neck and splattered on the bile green and jaundice yellow tiles of the floor beneath me. I had seen it all a hundred times before. Nor did I see the wires that were inserted into my skull, but I felt as they were pushed into my brain.

I have always prided myself on being able to control my emotions. I had mastered that art when I was eight years old. I could control what I showed people, huth…except where Dante was concerned with him I could show who I really was. But that is neither here nor there.

I couldn't let them see how I was effected by what was happening to me. Yes I could control my emotions, but the one thing that I could not control and I was shamed to my soul each and every time was my bodily functions, and I would piss and shit myself, and it humiliated me. Humiliated the proud man that I was.

What came next? Let's suffice to say that the electro shock therapy was love pats from your sweetheart compared to what they would do to me and make me do to them. I was unfastened from the table taken and washed then lead into another room that was in the basement. I was masked, always masked in this room and drugged into an even more helpless stupor. I would be raped repeatedly things used on me that should never be used. In the distance I would hear what sounded like a camera rolling and people talking. I would have more drugs forced into me, drugs that would make me erect and keep me that way and men and women would use my body, use me again and again. The tape would be ripped away from my lips taking small pieces of my tender flesh with it. The plug would be removed and my mouth would be forced open and I would be forced to take them in my mouth and it would sicken me. Dante was the only one that I wanted to do that for. And now, now I was nothing, I was used and damaged goods; worse then a whore and my Dante would never want me.

When they were finished using me I would have my throat slit and slowly start to bleed out. But before I actually succumbed to that sweet darkness, my natural healing abilities would kick in. I would be bathed again. The evidence of the transgressions washed down the drain and I would be taken back to my room, where I would be drugged into an even further stupor. To where I couldn't remember what had happened to me.

My horrified scream rang out around the room. I was off the bed and huddled in a corner where I continued to scream and beg for it all to stop. For it all to go away and even though my eyes were open I could see nothing. I could focus on nothing. Maybe if I screamed loud enough and long enough they would come and drug me and make me forget about the violations and abuse that was bestowed upon me. They had raped me. I knew it for what it was. RAPE! Father had always taught Dante and I that rape was rape no matter what.

I wanted Dante but he wasn't here. There was no one to hear me scream. I pulled my legs up wrapped my arms around them and continued to scream, begging for Dante to come and rescue me.I felt a hand touch me and I snarled, "No! I will not let you touch me again. You are going to have to kill me this time." I fought back against the hands that were trying to hold me down not hearing who was talking to me, just knowing I had to get free.

"Dante help me. Please come and rescue me." I reached down that line that we shared somehow able to break through the barrier of haze and find him, "I need you Dante. I need you my hero. Help me please."Somehow I heard Dante's voice through my screaming, a voice that was full of concern, a voice that was trying to call me back from the brink of my own madness, "Vergil, Vergil! Baby, it's me! It's me, it's your Dante, it's your hero. Come on my princess it's Dante."

I pulled away from the hands that were reaching for me and gaining my feet bolted into the bathroom where I huddled in the shower and continued to scream and beg for Dante to make it stop. To take away the madness. To rescue me yet again. "Dante! Please help me." I rasped out, my throat was raw and tender but I still continued wailing out my anguish.I needed to make it stop I need to make it all go away. Grabbing handfuls of my hair I started to pound my head against the tile wall hoping and praying that I would knock myself into the blissful realms of unconsciousness.

"You promised. You said I was your Princess. You said you were my hero. Where are you Dante?" I howled and continued to slam my head against the shower wall.I felt hands grab me to keep me from hurting myself and I tried to yank away from whomever it was. "Do not touch me!" I ordered, "You will not ever touch me again." I continued to try and get free but to no avail, my promises of repercussions continued, "My father and brother will kill you for this. They will kill you for what you have done to me. We are Sparda and you are beneath our contempt."

I heard the sound of my door being kicked in and several voices raised in anger. I recognized some of those voices and once more I was frightened about what would be done to me this time. Once again I started to scream for Dante and father to help me. I didn't know how long I would have continued to scream because I was snapped back to a semi-reality by Dante backslapping me and yelling, "God damn it snap the fuck out of it Vergil."

I shook my head and stared at Dante and he was beautiful, with his hair flying around his face, those Nordic blue eyes wide with what I didn't know at the time but found out later was fear, fear for all of our safety. I reached out and ran the back of my fingers down his cheek, I had to touch him to make sure he was real. He was, he was very real and I knew that I was safe now.

Dante stood and started to fight with the staff and told them in no uncertain terms that there was no way in hell that they were going to give me any more medication and that if the security guards didn't want this tranquilizer guns shoved up their collective asses that they would back the fuck off.

Then I heard it those words that he had spoken to me before I had been committed, except he had changed it from, "You are mine Princess! Mine! Mine to love and mine to protect. And I swear to you Vergil that I will kill anyone that harms you." To, "Vergil is mine. He is mine to love and mine to protect...so back the fuck off Skippy."I had always known that Dante loved me and that he was my hero, my knight in red leather armor, and when he had said those words to me they had been for my ears alone and I had felt so very special.

Before anyone could else could speak Dante started a soft lilting chant and the wards that had been so carefully constructed broke and I felt my powers start to come back online and very slowly stood up. I was no longer afraid and I remembered it all. Every little thing that they had done to me...but now wasn't the time to dwell on those unpleasant memories.

The wards were gone and my powers were awake again and they wanted vengeance. I wanted vengeance.

I went to my happy place!

My killing place!

And people were going to die!


	14. Chapter 14

Authors Note: Sorry for the delay had internet issues.

Entry 14: _Meet the Press and Kill Them _

Did people die that day? Unfortunately not. Dante stopped me before I could kill them, he wrenched the tranquilizer rifles away from the security guards and embedded them in a wall.

At the time I was very angry with Dante, but in hindsight I am grateful to him. I knew that my killing those two imbeciles that I had found in room would be considered self defense. But leveling Casa de Cuckoo and the murder of several people, some who were innocent, that would have been a wanton act of cruelty and violence and I would have been executed for my crime no matter what the circumstances us though we did several thousands of dollars worth of damage when we triggered…actually I think a more accurate term would be exploded into full Majin. The walls to my room crumbled into ruin and the board that had covered the window that had been broken earlier splintered outwards with the force of our fury, when we took flight there was a very sizeable hole left in the ceiling and roof from our exit.

We needed to get the hell out of there and I knew where we were going. Home. Home, where Sparda's ruled and the rest of the world didn't dare intrude. That is to say they usually didn't intrude. But, when we arrived home we found that our father was busy trying to field off the press. It just goes to show that good news travels slow where bad is like a wild fire, once ignited it consumes everything in it's path.

Dante and I circled around and landed in the backyard, the press had more then enough fodder to fed it right now and seeing Dante and I fully triggered would give them more meat to rend to pieces under their gnashing teeth. I landed with my wings curled around my back and with a side ways glance I saw that my Dante had mirrored my moves...or had I mirrored his? We entwined tails and he drew me into his embrace wrapping his wings and arms around me and held me. Held me like I needed to be held. Held me like he needed to hold me. To remind us that we were alive and safe.

Returning to human form I leaned my head against his shoulder and whispered, "Thank you my love."

Dante held me even tighter and replied in that husky dark voice of his. "It's all right baby. I'm going to make everything all right for you." He gently grasped my chin and forced me to look at him and growled softly, "I want you to tell me what they did to you Vergil I want you to tell me everything that you remember."

His body spoke volumes as he continued to hold me. He showed me with his actions that he didn't think that I was weak or lacked courage. That it was perfectly fine for me to rely on his strength. I knew that I was strong and I knew that my Dante knew that as well, but we also knew that even the strongest person needs a shoulder to lean on every now and then. I felt him meld back to human and sighed deeply. More then anything all I wanted to do was go upstairs to our room and shut the world out. Shut out everything and just be safe for a few moments in time. But I knew that the sanctuary that we ensconced ourselves in would be violated and that the sooner we faced down the 'rampaging horde' the sooner that our lives could regain some semblance of normality.

Glancing over at Dante I saw that he was more likely then not thinking the same exact thing. He gave me a sideways look and shrugged his shoulders, then wrapped his arm around my waist drew me in close and led me through the house. We paused by the front door long enough so we could kiss and caress each other drawing in on that strength that we shared before we went outside to face the firing squad.

When we opened the door we were hit with lights that were as bright as the midday sun and the questions were as rapid as machine gun fire. Some were aimed me while others were directed at my father.I tried my best to ignore the press as did Dante we were there to stand as a united front with my father as a family. Our little brother Nero was there as well, standing to the left of our father. If I would have had any inclination at-tall about what was to happen next, I would have either hidden until the end of time or reigned destruction down on the carrion carriers that had come to feast on our secrets. Our secrets and my had brought one of those damnable portable movie screens and had erected it and started to play a section of a very graphic XXX movie, that had me as the star. The words came out of my mouth in a barley audible whisper, "No! Dear god no!" I shut my eyes wanting it to all go away. I had tried to convince myself that it had all been a nothing more then a horrific dream brought on by too much medication. But there it was in blazing color my degradation. And even tough I could shut my eyes and block out the images but I couldn't stop hearing the noises. I heard one of the reporters speaking to my father, his voice malicious, he asked, "Tell me what you think of this footage Mr. Sparda? No wait don't answer that yet. You have to see this particular segment, it's my favorite part."

I had to see it. I had to see what was so damn interesting and like a fool I opened my eyes and I saw what this reporter had found so fascinating. How? How could he find my pain, my helplessness and my humiliation fascinating? I closed my eyes again and wrapping my arms around my body sank to the ground, whispering over and over again, "Make it stop someone please make it stop." I heard a strangled cry of 'dear god in heaven' from beside me and knew that it was Dante.

There was fury in the air around me. A hot fetid fury that ebbed off my father and Dante and to my surprise Nero. In the distance I could hear my father speaking, even though he was beyond furious his voice still was well cultured, more gentleman then devil lord. "Stop that filth this instant." He turned to me and reached his hand down and gently pulled me to my feet and that's when I saw not only the rage stamped across his handsome features but the pain and sorrow and in his eyes. He reached out and stroked my cheek with his fingertips and said loud enough for all to hear, "He is my son, my baby boy. How dare you bring that filth here and not only exploit him but hurt him more then he already has been."

He down at the reporter who had shown the film clip and snarled, "Did you not hear me Mr. McCall. I told you to stop that filth or I will get really angry. And trust me when I tell you this, you will definitely not like me when I am angry." Pausing more for dramatic effect then for air he continued, "There is one more thing and then this interview is over." He snagged a microphone out of a reporters startled hand and snarled into a camera. "My name is Dominic Christoph Sparda and I am going to give this one warning and one warning only. I want every copy of those vile and disgusting things brought to me so I can personally see to their destruction."He paused once again and continued more angry now then I had ever seen him, "Trust me when I tell you this, I will know. And I will find out who is responsible for the degradation of my son and the shame that they have brought on our name. And they will pay for what they have done." He reached down and pulled a dagger out of his boot and slashed across his left palm, "That is blood oath." He closed his hand into a fist and squeezed, then snarled darkly, "This interview is over."

He pivoted scooped me up in his arms and carried me into the house like he had done when I had been a child. He didn't stop until we reached his study where he sat in his big comfortable leather chair still holding me tight against him. He held me close rocking me back and forth promising me as Dante had that nothing would ever hurt me again. I knew that eventually I would have to be committed again for my own safety and the safety of my loved ones. But right now I needed this. I was a little boy again who had had a bad dream and daddy was making it better.

A short while later steaming cups of hot cocoa were placed in our hands. Dante smiled at us sat on the floor and signaled that Nero should join us.I wasn't sure how much time had passed with my father holding me, all I knew was that one minute I was being comforted by one of the most fiercest devils that had ever lived and the next I was awake and in a huge bed. My father on one side of me with Nero snuggled up beside him, Dante was on my other side, his hand resting over my heart and for the first time in a long time I had woke up feeling safe.


	15. Chapter 15

Chapter 15: And he's safe at home

For the first time in a very long time I knew that I was safe and safe was so very good. I let down my carefully constructed guard and I just slept. I wasn't plagued by nightmares, in fact I don't think I dreamt at all. What I didn't realize at the time but was told by him later was that father had weaved a spell around me to keep the dreams and nightmares at bay.

I wasn't sure how long I would have continued to sleep but even through the dreamless haze I heard a noise that was soft and muffled. Opening my eyes to see what it was I found that I was pressed up close to my fathers chest and he was running his long elegant fingers through my hair and he was whispering brokenly, "I am so sorry. So very sorry my sweet Vergil. My beautiful son. My baby boy." It struck me then that he was crying. My father was crying. I searched back through my memories trying to recall if he had ever cried in front of me before? I couldn't recall one single time that he had. He never had cried in front of me before and now he was.

Pulling back slightly I looked up into his face and saw that he was broken. His beautiful blue eyes were hollow but somehow still full of pain, rivulets of his agony streaming from them to fall like waterfalls down his cheeks. "Forgive me? Please Vergil, please forgive me." He pleaded, his voice harsh and gravely from his since I was a child, old enough to speak, I had called him father. Not dad, never daddy or papa, but father. Now he wasn't father nor was he dad, he was my papa, my daddy and he needed my comfort as much as I needed his. I raised my hand up and brushed away the moisture from his face and said, "Papa." That was the only word that I spoke to him and in that moment it was the only one that needed to be said. Even though I fought them I couldn't hold them back anymore, my tears started to fall, at first like a gentle spring rain, but as each drop fell it eroded a little bit more of the damn that was holding back my emotions and pain, until my tears turned into that torrential downpour and it washed over the ramparts leaving so much rubble in it wake. I had thought that my breakdown at the Casa de Cuckoo had been it, but I had been wrong, so very shifted on my other side and I felt his arm go around us both and draw in tight against him, holding us close giving so selflessly of his strength and his love. A life preserver in a storm of tempestuous emotions for my father and I to cling to. He made deep soothing noises in his throat, sounds that were a healing balm to the wounds that lay open and bleeding. When he did speak his voice was deep and tender, "Let me make it better for you baby. Share your pain and I swear I will make it better."

I couldn't speak. I tried, but the words were caught in my throat. In my heart I knew that they wouldn't judge me nor would they blame me, but there are times when the brain overrides what the heart knows. The damned brain and all the poisonous ideas that it feeds you. The oozing bile that it spews out at you making you doubt and question your own self-worth.

"What happened to you in there Vergil?" Nero's question hit me broadside. Somehow in my hellish anguish I had forgotten about him being there as well. I saw his wide eyes looking over fathers shoulder at me. I needed to tell them. Tell them the things that had happened to me...the things that I could remember. But how could I? How could I tell my father, my lover, my brothers, my Dante, that they had used me. I burrowed in tighter against my fathers chest and forced the words past the tight knot in my chest and the lump in my throat and I told them. I told them everything that I could recall happening to me. Everything! Every minute detail. The electroshock therapy, the sexual abuse that was inflicted on my unwilling body. The men, the women, the...I gagged and somehow managed not to vomit...the animals. "They did things to me and used things on me. Things that should never be done to anyone." I clawed and fought my way out of their embrace and flung my body out of the bed and I started to rage. Started to howl out my anguish and sorrow. Once I started I couldn't stop. The floodgates had been opened and nothing was going to stop the torrent of emotions that were flowing from me.

I couldn't stand still and I started to pace and continued to rage and scream out my sorrow and my bitterness. I looked over at the bed at the three people whom I loved and cared most about and spoke my voice raw and husky from my raging, I directed my words at father and Dante, "You've been there. Granted you weren't the unwilling guest that I was. You weren't a slave. You weren't anyone's meat. You have both been to the hell that I was in."

My breathing was harsh and I panted out, the tears started to flow again, "I wasn't a virgin when I was committed to the asylum. Far from it. But through all the torments and atrocities that happened to me while I was in hell somehow I still retained a small degree of my innocence. But that place robbed me of that last remaining bit of it. That small part of me that still…" I paused and lowering my head said softly, "That part of me that still believed in Santa Claus."

When I raised my head up and looked at them watching me and listening to me I wasn't sure what they were thinking but somehow my stupid brain had convinced me that I wasn't worthy of any of them especially Dante. I wasn't worthy of anything that he offered me. But mostly I wasn't worthy of his love. I wasn't good enough or clean enough to be his lover. He deserved someone pure and I no longer was. I was damaged goods. I was dirty and no amount of soap and water would wash away that filth that clung to me.

I watched as Dante rose from the bed, followed by father and Nero and soon they were beside me comforting me, holding me and offering soothing caresses. I tired to pull away but found that I was held tight so I ceased in my struggles. "How can you stand it?" I asked quietly, "How can you stand looking at me let alone touching me? Knowing what happened to me?"

My father yanked me away from Dante and Nero and holding me by the upper arms shook me hard and replied, "Rape is ugly Vergil. No matter whom it happens to. It is ugly. Vergil, my son what happened to you was not your fault. You should never blame yourself for it." Then pulled me into his strong, warm, safe embrace and just held me.

I felt Dante's arms encircle my waist and even though I was reluctant to leave the haven of father's embrace I allowed Dante to pull me away from him. "You're coming with me." Was all he said before he scooped me up in his arms and carried me bridal style into the master bath that was off fathers bedroom. I knew he was reluctant to release me so when he sat me to my feet, I wrapped my arms around his waist and watched as he filled the king…no make that dragon sized bathtub full of warm water and added a generous amount of bubble bath to the running water.

The room exploded with the warm heady scent of lavender, chamomile and patchouli it was a fragrance that both father and I loved so very much. When the tub was filled with bubbles and warm water Dante knelt before me and stripped off the silk pajama bottoms that I was wearing and standing removed his own. Then picking me up again he stepped into the sunken tub and cradled me to his broad muscular chest. He didn't say anything just held me close.

I knew that he would eventual bathe me, would wash away the filth of my shame. I knew that there was nothing to be ashamed of. But still it clung to my body like a shroud and if I were bathing myself I would never feel clean enough. But, with Dante doing it, I knew that it would be a renewal for me. I knew that when I rose from this tub I wouldn't be a virgin physically but spiritually I would. This bath was going to be the symbolic cleansing of my body and soul.

At first we just sit there in the warm depths just enjoyed each others body with doing no more then cuddling. Unfortunately the quietness gave me time to think. And the thoughts were bleak. I really didn't want to go into another institution, but I also knew that for my own safety and the safety of the people whom I loved and cared about I would eventually have to be locked away again. Locked away until I could figure out what was wrong with me. Why there were times when I was plagued with thoughts of either total delineation or annihilation of the human race. I didn't understand it. I had learned to embrace my humanity. Learned that humans were not the weak beings that I once believed them to be. That they were strong and persevered no matter what was thrown at them.

I sighed and said softly, "I'm afraid Dante."

He nuzzled my neck with his nose tickling the flesh with a warm exhale of breath, "Umm of what my Princess."

"I'm afraid of what's going to happen to me when I am sent away again. I know that eventually I am going to have to be locked up again. So I don't hurt anyone, myself included." I shuddered as memories of the abuse started to seep in again. I squirmed around in his arms until I was straddling him. All I had wanted to do was to face him but my wiggling around managed to arouse him and glancing down I saw the great beast of his manhood lurking beneath the waters surface and couldn't fight, nor did I want to the moan of pleasure that escaped my lips.

I saw that devastating look of love, lust and passion flash in the blue depths of his eyes and I knew that the look was for me and me alone. Leaning in I pressed my mouth against his kissing him softly then I whispered, "Bathe me Dante. I need you and want you to bathe me my hero. I need you and want you to make love with me. Make it all right for me." Then kissed him again, this one deeper. I kissed him with all the love and all the passion that I possessed.

He gently pushed me off of his lap and stood, water cascading down is hard muscular body. I knew that my own eyes glazed over with lust as I gazed up at this spectacular man who was looming proud and naked over me. He was an ancient sea god that had sprang from the water. But when I smelled the heat of his lust and saw the glistening drops that decorated the end of his shaft I knew that he was so not a sea god after all. He more of a god of desire and stepped out of the tub and grabbed a towel and wrapped it around his hips, then knelt by the tub and picked up a bathing sponge and squeezed in a generous amount of bath gel into it then worked it into a generous lather and started to rub it over my body. Rewashing areas that would make me moan with pleasure. "Stand up." Dante ordered me and when I had he started at my thighs and worked his way down one of my legs and up the other. He reached my tight ass and soaped over the silky surface cupping each cheek and squeezing drawing more cries from me. He grabbed my hips and turned me to face him and saw that due to his ministrations I had grown turgid with need for took my length in his hand and soaped up and down the throbbing surface, until I was close to weeping with my need for him. "Sit down Vergil, sit and rinse the soap from your body." When I was rinsed clean he pulled me from the water and wrapped a towel around my waist and carried me from the bathroom, out of our father's bedroom and down the hall to briskly dried me off and lay me in the center of our bed and joined me there, "I'm going to make it better for you Vergil. I am going to make love with you and I am going to help you forget" Then he covered me with his body and with his love.


	16. Chapter 16

Authors note: Sorry aboutthat first little glitch but when I went in to check everyting was underlined. Also sorry that I forgot to put in the last chapter about the mild yaoi, that was my bad. Sincerlly hope I did not offend anyone.

On another note, here's hoping that everyone has a happy and safe New Years.

New Entry 16: Tea and no sympathy

When Dante and I came downstairs later that afternoon we found that father was not home. When I asked Nero he shrugged and said, "All he said that he was going out and wasn't sure when he was going to be home." Then added, "It was a little strange he smelled like brimstone and he was carrying that big assed sword of his. You know the one that makes Rebellion look like a toothpick."

I glanced over at Dante and found that he had plopped down on one of the overstuffed black and blue brocade chairs and was cupping his forehead, shaking his head back and forth muttering, "Shit! Fuck! Shit fuck!"

Dante and I knew the sword that Nero was talking about. Father had shown it to us once when we were around five, and told us that it was something that he had but he no longer used. I looked over at my twin and saw the same question burning in his eyes that I knew was burning in mine and I put the question to words, "Why not?"

He had smiled at me and gently ruffled my hair the brushed it back off my forehead and said simply, "It is a sword of vengeance."

Nero looked between Dante and I and asked, "Is there something wrong?"

"I don't honestly know." I replied. I didn't know how to answer. Father had always had his own sense of justice, even though in some instances it was far outside the bounds of human laws. No I did not know if anything were wrong, but I did feel it in my gut that there might be, but I couldn't tell Nero that. Couldn't shatter the sense of our father being a hero and not capable of doing anything wrong.

I also knew that Dante felt the same way that I did. We had had our hopes and dreams shattered when we were children, with the 'death' of our father and the murder of our mother. Dante finally stopped groaning and rising gracefully from the chair lopped over to where Nero was stretched out on the floor where he had been playing Teenage Zombies From the Fifth Dimension, and said, "Come on kid and let's go into town and grab pizza for dinner."

Nero whined, "Why can't we just have it delivered?"

Dante ruffled Nero hair and said, "Because wisenheimer we also have to stop and pick up Chinese for the princess and dad." He wrinkled his nose, then looked down it and said in a perfect imitation of father, "I don't see how you can stand eating that disgusting mess of soggy bread, tomato sauce and cheese. It is offensive to my pallet and no gentleman would allow such a thing to grace or even his taste buds."

Nero laughed as he stood up and said, "How could I have forgotten that dad doesn't like pizza?" He looked over at me and asked, "What about you Vergil? Do you feel the same way dad does about pizza?"

"I am not as bad as he is and I do eat pizza occasionally, but Dante was correct in his assessment, tonight I want Chinese." I answered his question. I didn't bother asking him to grab chopsticks for me, since I knew that father had several sets of them. I was proud of myself for not mentioning to Nero that I used a knife and fork to eat pizza, the dear boy probably wouldn't have believed me anyway.

Dante and Nero left the house a few minutes later and for the first time in a long time I found myself alone in the big sprawling mansion. I left the family room and walked down to the library, not because I wanted a book but because that's where it was. The portrait of mother that hung in a place of honor against one wall. I entered the room and turned on the lights a soft luminous glow filled the room I walked over to where the portrait was encased in glass. There was a small table that was under were several candles in different colors, the blue one that was mine had hardly been used at all where the purple and red had been burnt down to where they almost touched the candle holder.

Picking up the matches I lit one and applied the flame to the blue candle and whispered softly, "I miss you mother and I am sorry that I failed to keep you safe." I quickly shook the thoughts away not wanting to dwell on that particular memory. Not just yet anyway. I really didn't want to think about it. How I had not only failed her, but failed Dante and father as well. Blowing out the candle I turned to leave the room not wanting to be in there anymore. When I hit the hallway I really wasn't paying attention to where I was going and I plowed into a hard body.

I started to apologize but the words died on my lips. My father who was as fastidious about his appearance as I am was covered in blood and small pieces of building rubble. He didn't offer any answers to the unasked questions that I knew were flashing in my eyes and emblazoned across my face. He smiled softly at me and said four words, "Never again my son." Then continued down the hall and up the stairs to his room to wash away the dust of his sins.

Normally dinner was a formal affair in our home but that night was different, Dante had rolled his eyes at father and asked, "How formal can pizza and take out be? Come on dad loosen up."

So we had dinner in the living room with the television turned on just for background noise. Although we really didn't need the additional racket, our conversation was lively and animated.

I noticed that there was only one pot sticker left and since father was preoccupied with pouring more tea for he and I quickly nabbed it before he could. His eyes twinkled and he said, "I saw that."

Before I could reply one of those late breaking stories flashed across the screen telling how Casa de Cuckoo had been razed to the ground the only survivors being the patients and a few members of the staff, the rest had been brutally murdered. When questioned about the events most of the answers and comments ranged from 'it was the devil' to 'it was an avenging angel.'.

I looked over at father who didn't say a word, instead he picked up his tea and took a small sip.


	17. Chapter 17

Disclaimer: I still do not own the rights to Devil May Cry, nor to the two movie references made in here one from Harry Potter and the other Aladdin.

Authors note: Mild and suggestive Yaoi themes. And if you are a Pink Floyd fan you will get the reference to the name of Vergil's doctor. If not look up the band members on line and then you will.

Entry 17: What makes me tick? It's a…It's a…It's a….

I had been home for close to two weeks before father found a different facility for me, he had done extensive research in several institutions and found that New Cross Psychiatric Hospital was one of the best on the East Coast. Why I hadn't been sent to this particular facility to begin with? That is by no means my fathers fault. He trusted someone who was supposed to be an upstanding member of society.

My initial intake wasn't as horrific as I had imagined. Instead of locking me in a room and having several doctors ask me the same questions over and over again they only had two, and they let father and Dante be with me. I guess they figured that anything I had to tell them my family already knew. Were they ever wrong. There are things that are buried in my past, that I would prefer to stay there.

One of the things that I really like about New Cross is that instead of drugging all the patients into a walking comatose state they rely more on counseling and trying to find out what the unresolved issues were. That's not to say that they didn't use medications when they were necessary, because sometimes they were. It all depended on the patient and their willingness to get better.

I can say that this institution is much better then Casa de Cuckoo. I can have visitors more frequently then before and Dante is allowed to spend the night. Not every night but the nights that we have together are so very warm and loving. Another great thing is I can go home on visits.

They have found that I am maniac depressive and that I do have some seasonal disorders. But now instead of taking 962 pills an hour, I am taking a grand total of four. One of which is a sleeping pill, my first night there I had screamed myself awake due to the horror of the nightmares that plagued me. The same thing had happened the following night, so they gave me a sleeping aid on my third night and I slept through the night. They have also discovered that on the nights that Dante is allowed to stat with me that the sleeping pills are not necessary, but having Dante stay with me every night was not an option, damn it.

There was an added benefit to the sleeping pills and that I wasn't plagued as frequently by nightmares. Some I knew that was what they were, just nightmares. Where others I knew were repressed memories. Memories of the horrors that I had endured. Memories of my failures.

So here it is almost two months later and I and they are still no closer to figuring out what is wrong with me. The one thing that they do agree on is that I am very Narcissistic. Have you seen me? Uh hello, I am gorgeous. I have also told me that my personality is grandiose and at times I believe that I am omnipotent, but those were issues that we would work on later. Right now the therapist is trying to figure out what makes me tick. Which was proving to be a difficult task for him since I am very distracted today, more so then usual. But, how could I not be? Today is visiting day. Which means tonight I will be sleeping in Dante's arms, so how could I possibly concentrate on anything but that. It had been two weeks since I had last seen him. Two weeks since I had last been held in his arms. Two weeks since I had touched him and he had touched me. Two long agonizing weeks since I had smelled that deep heady erotic intoxicating scent that was his alone. Two weeks since I had been made love with. Two weeks, which in my estimation was fourteen days too many.

My therapist smiled indulgently at me and informed me that the days session was over and since he wasn't getting anything useful out of me anyway other then my ramblings about Dante and how incredibly noble he had been to come and rescue me from the hells that I had been imprisoned in. I know that the staff here is very aware that I am not entirely human, father had told them before I had been admitted. They had also been informed about what had happened to me at Casa de Cuckoo and the circumstances that would follow if my family had inclination at all about my being mistreated or abused.

When I entered the visitors lounge I paused by the doorway and just watched my beloved brother. Dante was and always would be an aesthetic feast for the senses. It didn't matter what his actions were; slaying demons, at leisure, it didn't matter one iota he was always charming and irresistible. Even when he was angry he exuded raw sensuality.

He looked up from the magazine that he had been thumbing through and smiled at me, then tossed it on the table and pulled his body from the couch and stretched giving all, because I knew that I was not the only one, who watched him the impression of a sleek un-neutered tom cat. I suddenly became very light headed, due to the fact that every drop of blood that was in my body was now surging between my legs.

Have I mentioned that there are times whenever I see my scoundrel of a licentious brother that my IQ drops by 150 points. This was one of those times that I was one step up on the evolutionary scale from a slug. Oh who the hell was I kidding? I was more along the lines of a protozoan and unfortunately that single cell was not brain. It was incredibly lucky for me that breathing came naturally for if it didn't I would be in serious trouble, since my treacherous brain had gone on vacation and left my empty shell of a body behind.

Unfortunately we could not immediately go to my private rooms so I retrieve my brain by having Dante pound me into a writhing quivering mess of spent lust. No that would have to wait since one of the conditions that had to be made for my having an overnight guest and home leave, was that a family member had to meet or speak via the telephone with the staff once a week, that way my care and prognosis as well as my progression in therapy could be discussed and what further treatment was going to be needed. Today we were told that even though I was making some extraordinary progress there was still quite a bit of work left to be done before I could be classified as mentally well, instead of unhinged. The main problem, Dr. Waters told Dante was that they were having a lot of trouble finding what made me tick and that even though I was doing really well in individual therapy I would still not open up in group. But that it was fine they wouldn't force the issue, that if I wanted to share that eventually I would.

Later when Dante and I are were in my private rooms he quickly divested me of my clothing and did a thorough search of my body. I purred in pleasure when he rubbed his cheek along my buttock and said, "Hmmm, this is very interesting, I've searched everywhere babe and can't find it."

I felt strong hands separate my bum cheeks and moaned when he touched that puckered sensitive area with his tongue, "Find what?" I panted out in half gasp half scream.

"Well honey, the only thing that I can think of that is making you tick is a clock. And I have looked everywhere for it. Searched every single sultry luscious inch of this beautiful body of yours and I can't find the clock that is making you tick." He replied with a growl and in one fluid move had me on my back with my legs in the air. "The only place I haven't searched is here." One finger was gently inserted in me and when he touched that special spot I groaned in pleasure. He continued moving his finger back and forth against me and I continued to cry out my passion for him. "Is this it?" Dante growled low. "Is that what makes you tick baby?" He kissed his way over to my ear and the down to my neck where he bit me and then snarled, "If it is then that explains why no one else has found it…and no one else had better find it either."

By the time he was finished I was very well sated and purring like a cream fed cat, "Why do I always feel so much better after one of your visits Dante?"

He drew my sweat soaked body in close to his replied, "Because I have the best therapy there is, I let you do what you need to do at the time. And when things get too bad I help you work out your...tensions." Then he leered at me and continued lasciviously, "I am the Love Doctor…and baby I am in." He pulled me under him again and showed me exactly how he helped get rid of my pent up stress, by making love with me for the rest of the night and holding me while I slept.

When I woke up later that afternoon I was in hell once again. Not the Christian hell or the hell that any religion teaches about. I was in the hell that my own psychosis.

I wasn't home nor was I in the new facility that father had found for me. I was back in Casa de Cuckoo and this time it was worse then before. They knew now. They knew what truly terrified me, other then being helpless while things happened to my family. I was bound and I was in a glass coffin.

That was not what petrified me with fear, no the coffin didn't bother me, nor did being closed in, since I am not claustrophobic. It was my coffin mates. The coffin was crawling with spiders, inside and out. So even if I could somehow gain my freedom from being closed in the box with those eight legged freaks I would still be petrified with fear.

In my terror I remembered Ronald Wesley saying, 'Why couldn't it be follow the butterflies?' It is amazing what you remember when you are scared literally shitless. I had always been terrified of spiders and had no idea why. There were times that I wished I were more like my brave and noble Dante, who despite the fact that he was not to found of spiders himself, but able to knock the fuckers into the afterlife. Granted he would shudder afterwards and do that cute little thing were he'd shake his hands and go 'Blah-la' Although in this situation I imagined that Dante would have been petrified as well.

I reached out to him needing him to come and rescue me again. But I felt nothing! Nothing from him and nothing from father. I was truly alone trapped in my terror. Trapped in this place and the only two people that could help me were no longer around.

"Where are you?" I managed to get past the lump of horror that was lodged firmly in my throat. Then I saw it in my mind, I saw their tombstones sitting like jagged broken teeth against the dark night sky. Saw that my father and my brother Nero, and my lover, my Dante were dead. Along with their graves was mother's, and every person whom I had known, whom I had cared about and loved. They were all dead and even though I was past the brink of insanity I knew that it was my fault. I had failed them. I had failed all of them. I hadn't been strong enough to save them. If only I had succeeded in raising the Temin-Ni-Gru then I would have had the power the ultimate power to save them.

God damn it why do random movie quotes keep popping up in my head? 'Phenomenal Cosmic Power. Itty bitty living spaces.' Fuck Me! Now was not the time to be thinking about Disney movies or any other movies for that matter.

I quit struggling to get out of my coffin. I no longer wanted to be free. Not anymore. What did I have left to live for? They were all gone. The reasons that I had fought so hard to try and get better were all gone. I closed my eyes and let the madness take me, moving my hand up one last time to try and brush the spiders off my face. But I felt hair and before the insanity completely overwhelmed me I had to see what this new torture was. See what had come to drag what was left of me into the abyss of lunacy. I forced my eyes open and was startled to see Dante's face above mine, only the fact that there concern flashing in his beautiful blue eyes kept me from believing that he was part of my nightmare. He held out one of his hands and the fingertips were moist with tears and I realized that they were mine since my cheeks were wet."Are you okay baby?" His concerned voice filtered through the cobwebs clouding my brain, "You were crying and shaking." He said softly and pulled me in close to him.

I was afraid that in my imprisonment that I had finally succumbed to the final slumber that all people take. I knew that despite his faults and past, Dante was a good man. He had a pure soul. Had I been forgiven for my own past? Had I? I needed to know so I asked in a tight voice, "Am I in heaven?"

I saw Dante smirk and he replied in a low sexy voice, "As long as you are in my arms Princess that's as close to heaven as either of us are going to get."

I sighed knowing that it had all been a nightmare and that as long as there was breath in his body Dante would always be there for me.


	18. Chapter 18

Disclaimer: I still do not own the rights to Devil May Cry, nor to the rights of the song mentioned within that belongs to Blue Oyster Cult. And if you are interested in hearing it here is the link.

.com/watch?v=WMs085guB7Q&feature=related

I also do not own the rights to Pooky.

Authors Note: Many thanks go out to everyone who has read and reviewed so far. Sho and Jael belong to one of my closest friends and are used with her permission. Thanks for the loan dear heart.

Entry 18: The Psychic Wars of the PsychoticI haven't talked too much about the new facility that I am in it is much nicer then Casa de Cuckoo, but then again the seventh ring of hell would be preferable to that place. I find that I really do want to get well. I want to be able to go home and stay there. I want to be able to walk by graveyards and not have the spirits of the dead torment me. I want to be…free.

While I was in Casa de Cuckoo I kept my private thoughts and inner turmoil to myself, not wanting to give anyone more fodder for the fire that they would use to burn me with.

So yes they were correct in one assessment of me that I was closed off and had anti-social tendencies.

Here at New Cross I actually participate in group therapy, granted I am still closed off and secretive about some of the things that happened in my past. The less the knew about my time in hell and the atrocities that I committed while I was a slave to Mundus, the better for their own peace of mind and sanity.

I have found two people whom I enjoy talking to on a semi regular basis, outside of group as well as in. I think the reason that we get along so well together is that we three have a lot in common with each other. First there is Jael Springsteen, we have both been told repeatedly that we suffer from delusions of grandeur and have a kick your ass complex. Who's suffering? I know that I am magnificent, so how is that delusional. Self centered egotistical and Narcissistic, well yes I am but then again I can also be humble if I work at it.

But about Jael, in the last facility he was in he too proved that you could shove someone through a security window when they made the mistake of calling him Bruce. His father pulled some really important strings that kept him form being put in prison. He freely admitted to me that he is criminally insane and that he knew that like me he needed to be locked up for his own protection. There is more to him that I do not know about yet, but perhaps one day I will. I don't know if Springsteen is his last name or not, I honestly don't think it is, considering every time someone calls him Mr. Springsteen he laughs manically and grins like the deranged.

The other is Sho, no last name just Sho. He is very quiet and introspective and the only time he speaks is when it is important or has some major bearing on the conversation at hand. He hasn't opened up in group and I actually thank god that he never had to face the horrors that I did at Casa De Cuckoo. Although when I look into his eyes I see someone that has been through his own nightmares. I see a wounded child in those lavender depths, the wounded child whose scars never had the opportunity to heal.

Yes in some ways we are alike, Jael, Sho and I. We have had our share of pain in the past and in dealing with that pain we are guaranteed to have more of it in present and our future. I feel that I am starting to get redundant in coming up with either movie quotes or song lyrics in my ramblings, but there are times that they just fit. And this one fits not only me, but anyone who has been through what we have or have had similar experiences to ours._You see me now a veteran of a thousand psychic wars_

_I've been living on the edge so long, where the winds of limbo roar_

_And I'm young enough to look at, and far too old to see_

_All the scars are on the inside_

_I'm not sure that there's anything left of me_

_Don't let these shakes go on, it's time we had a break from it_

_It's time we had some leave_

_We've been living in the flames_

_We've been eating up our brains_

_Oh please, don't let these shakes go ask me why I'm weary, why I can't speak to you_

_You blame me for my silence, say it's time I changed and grew_

_But the war's still going on, dear, and there's no when that I know_

_And I can't stand forever_

_I can't say if we're ever gonna be free_Those poignant lyrics are by the band Blue Oyster Cult and they had it right. The war that we, the insane, fight is an everyday occurrence. How is it our fault that we can't tell you how we feel when we don't know ourselves? How can we explain that we want to scream and rage but we don't know why? How can we be expected to be functioning members of a society that reviles our very existence? How can we exist in world where we know that our nightmares are reality based?

How?

I don't know and I'm not sure that I want to.

All the scars are on the inside…No I disagree there, some of us have scars on the outside as well as the in. The scars that the world can see and react to in either horror or sympathy. Some genuine some mocking. These are the scars that some of us wear as badges of honor where others wear them as a cloak of shame.

As I stated earlier I really am trying to get better for not only those reasons but others as well. I want to fall asleep in Dante's arms every night for the rest of my life and wake there the next morning. I want to be able to feel Yamato in my hand again. I want to go on midnight raids in the kitchen then either feign innocence or pretend like I was sleepwalking when father catches me.

But there is one thing that I want to do more then anything else. Something that I haven't been able to bring myself to do in a very long time. I want to visit my mothers grave and put lilies on it and tell her how much I love her and how sorry I am to have failed ?

Where did that come from?

I failed her?

How? How did I fail her? I was so very young when she was taken from us. Taken from Dante and I. I was too young and too weak to save her or Dante.

I try to recall more of that memory but the rest is hidden behind a veil of thick black lace. Lace that is impenetrable to my eyes. Lace that no matter how I slash at it I can't cut through it. I shake my head to clear the remnants of that thought away. It no longer matters. For I know that tonight perhaps just perhaps I maybe able to see more of it in my dreams.

I really haven't discussed the staff here yet. They are not only better educated but thy seem to have a deeper understanding and are more empathetic to our, we the deranged, needs. And if we do not feel like sharing in either group or our individual therapy then the issue is not forced, since they know that eventually we will want to discuss our issues.

I know that I have stated that I love the fact that a lot of the restrictions that were in place at Casa de Cuckoo are non existent at New Cross another thing that is extremely nice is the food. Not only is it edible but there has been no 'mystery meat' surprise, and they know what a balanced diet is. There is always plenty of fresh fruit and vegetables.

After dinner we have free time where we can enjoy other activities. Which makes me very happy since I am allowed to have a lot of my art supplies here. No oil based paints though since some of the patients are here on drug related issues and would probably use the paint as an inhalant. But I am allowed my colored pencils as well as chalks and charcoal. Drawing is something that I really enjoy and I find that I can sit and do it for hours at a time and during that time my mind is actually relaxed.

No darkling's lurking around to whisper psychotic things to me or to torment me with horrific images. But I couldn't spend all my time drawing.

It is getting late and is almost time for bed. I change into my silk pajama bottoms and wait for the night nurse to come around with my sleeping pill. Once I had taken it, I slid in between the cool blood red sheets grab Pooky and close my eyes, and pray silently that maybe I will see more of her again once I am asleep. Maybe I will be able to see my mother again…


	19. Chapter 19

Authors note: Sorry for the delay in updating. When I first started to write Diary of a Madman I took a lot of inspiration from Pink Floyd The Wall. Recently I found new inspiration for Vergil and his thoughts. The album is by Breaking Benjamin and is Dear Agony.

Chapter 19: Dream a little dream of me

I know in my previous journal entries I made it sound like I actually enjoyed sleeping. Truth of the matter was that I only do it because my body requires it. Almost every night since leaving Casa de Cuckoo and no longer being drugged into oblivion, I had been having horrific nightmares, each one leading to the same conclusion. Dante being dead and my being responsible for it. Each night that I didn't spend in the warm, safe comfort of Dante's embrace I would be assaulted by the night terrors.

The curtain that hid my nightmares would open and I would find that once again I was in hell. Not literally but it most certainly felt like it. I was trapped in one of the nightmares that I had been having, in this one Dante was extremely happy and for that I was grateful. I know that at times I come across as a cold blooded heartless bastard but no matter how cold and ruthless I may seem to those who do not know me the only thing that really matters tome is Dante's happiness. Yes his happiness and his well being.

Even though I had tried to kill him when we were younger in my heart I knew, I knew that it was for his own good. I knew that he was the one. He was the one that would be strong enough to make everything alright.

But I digress I was writing about my nightmares.

Dante had found the perfect woman, she understood that he and I had history, that we did love each other completely and that we did make love with each other on occasion. She didn't mind she said that what Dante and I shared was beautiful, that was how I knew it was a was also a dad and had three little tow-headed children who had the misfortune of looking exactly like him, but were also fortunate enough to look like me.I arrived at his home and entered the kitchen and was assaulted by the sweet smell of fresh baked cookies. I snagged one of the cooling rack and ask Angela, Dante's wife, where Dante was and was told that he was in the basement getting Halloween decorations for the party they were having.

Descending the stairs to the basement I saw him, saw my handsome brother getting ready to retrieve a box of decorations, he turned and gave me that roguish grin that only he could get and said, "Hey Verge, come and help me with these boxes."

I walked over to where he was reaching up to get a box and said, "You are so very beautiful Dante." Grabbing his hips I pulled him close to me and rubbed my body against his, I leaned my head forward so I could nibble on his earlobe and ground my pelvis against his tight ass I husked out, "Yes so very beautiful, but in this position you have also left yourself very, very...vulnerable." With movements that not even my devil eyes could follow I had Yamato out and had him beheaded.

A soft voice filtered down the stairs, "My love, are you finished with that mess yet?"

Sneering down at the body of my fallen brother I wiped his blood off of Yamato on his shirt tail and sheathe the blade. I answered her question, "Just finishing up my angel." Then went up the stairs to join my family.

Sitting at the table I pick up my coffee cup the cup that said, '1 Daddy and Husband.' Took a sip and watched in horror as my family was ripped apart by the spiders that exploded from their skin and skittered across the room to devour me.

Scrambling away from them I hit what was supposed to be the back wall of the kitchen and fell through a hole and landed with a thump on my ass.

That hurt!

I know that in dreams you thought that you felt and scented things but in actuality you couldn't. Those are wakening memories. Memories of what things are supposed feel, smell and taste like. I blinked several times against the brightness and realized that wherever the hell I was I was not at home. I would not be able to reach over and find Dante safe and alive in bed beside me. I would not be able to hear the steady sound of his heartbeat.

Damn it my ass hurt from where I had fallen. Standing up I knew that I hadn't fractured my tailbone, looking around I saw that I had been sitting on an elaborate brocade pillow that rested on the seat of a throne, a throne that had been formed of rock and bones. The hand rests were the skulls of my enemies. The rug that covered the area from the huge double doors to the foot of the stairs leading up to my throne was that deep rich red color of dried blood and I knew that was exactly what had colored this particular rug.

I retook my seat just as the double entry doors opened and my slaves brought the next prisoner in. This one I knew oh so well. This prisoner who was flung before me naked and in chains was my dear sweet brother Dante. He was so very real, so real that I could smell him, smell his warm, spicy cologne and that scent that made him Dante. That smell of leather, sweat and sex, and I found that I was growing hard with want for him.

I shook my head in confusion, why was he here? Bound and helpless before me. He had been tortured that was obvious due to the fact that he was broken and bleeding. I looked at the two sycophants that had brought him in to me and commanded, "Leave us!" And waited until they had departed before I knelt down in front of him I reached my hand out tentatively to touch his cheek, part of me terrified because I knew that I was caught in another twisted chapter of my perpetual nightmare. I had to know and with my voice catching in my throat in I managed to ask softly, "Are you flesh?"

I ran my fingers down his cheek and found that yes indeed he was flesh, I wrapped my arms around his body burying my face against his shoulders only to feel him tense in my arms. Then he spoke and his voice that used to be so full of laughter and life was as broken as his body, "I never realized you hated me this much Vergil."

That comment threw me, hated him. I didn't hate him. Granted I hated some of the things he had done in the past but never him, never my Dante. I loved him. And for the first time since I had been plagued by the dreams I apologized.

"Dante, please forgive me for what I have done to you." It didn't matter at that point if I was still dreaming. If I was, he could turn into whatever horror he wanted to and rend me apart and it would be all right.

I reached behind him and removed the shackles that held him prisoner and wrapped my arms around him again needing to hold him and to make sure that he was flesh and not spirit. I felt his arms wrap around me and draw me in even closer to his body. And his voice his voice washed over me as he spoke again, "Of course I forgive you. I just hope that someday I will be able to forgive myself for what I have to do. But I have to do this Vergil and may whatever god there is have mercy on me."

Somehow he was healed and he had all his strength back, he pushed away from me and was suddenly behind me with Rebellion drawn and biting into my neck. "I could forgive you for all of it Verge. All of it. Your betraying me and trying to destroy the human race. That I could forgive you for. But the thing that I can never forgive you for is you not protecting our mother. She screamed for you Vergil she screamed for you to come and help her but you never did. You are a cowardly cur. You ran Vergil, you ran and left us to die."

He paused for breath and I tried to explain only to be silenced by him roaring,

"Shut up Vergil. Just shut the fuck up. You had your turn to talk. Now it's my turn." Dante grabbed a handful of my hair and yanked my head back bringing the huge blade of Rebellion around to press against my tender exposed throat. "You left us to die Vergil. You left mother and I to die while you ran away and I hate you for it."

In the next instant I felt my head leave my shoulder blades and then everything went black. I woke with a choking sob and for a few seconds I was disoriented. Blinking several times I managed to clear my thoughts and realize that it had been a dream nothing more then a horrific nightmare.

Like those that came before this one I knew that it was due to unresolved business and I knew that the next time I saw Dante I needed to tell him the truth about our mother. The truth on why I had left the way I had.

The truth...

I prayed that he would be able to forgive me.


	20. Chapter 20

_Entry 20: Every Mothers Son_

At the risk of repeating myself I do have to reiterate the fact to myself that I really need to sit down and talk to Dante and let him know about my unfortunate part in our mothers death and the nightmares that I was having that centered around him and that part of my life. But I felt like I needed to do some self analysis first. I had to try and figure out why I was continuingly plagued by the nightmares of fratricide.

I know that I should talk to my therapist about the nightmares and the self-recrimination. The feelings that I did not deserve to be forgiven or loved. There were times that I really hated myself. Hated myself enough that I just wanted to end it all. And if I were honest with myself I would if I could figure out a way to cut my heart out and my head off. When I have those feelings there is one thing that stops me from seriously trying to do myself in.

No it is not Dante. It is my mother. My sweet and wonderful mother. I see her beautiful face and those kind warm eyes filled with so much love for her husband and her sons. And I would hear her telling me that suicide was not the answer. That suicide didn't hurt you it hurt the people that you left you behind. It left them wondering what they had done wrong or what they could have done differently.

As I sit here writing I can't help but think about the day that changed me and my course in life forever. I knew that I needed to talk to Dante and father about what had happened and I knew it was going to be the hardest thing that I would ever do. Telling them that I was responsible for mothers death.

I had failed her. I had failed to protect her. I was a failure to the great and noble house of Sparda. I had failed all of them. Father, mother, Dante, but mostly I had failed myself.

I was the eldest son of Sparda and with that honor I should have been infallible, those around me untouchable. I was certain that father and Dante may have suspected that I had felt this way and at times I still do. They didn't know my deepest darkest secret. A secret that I had shared with no one until now. The secret that had led me down a path where there was no redemption, the deed that sealed my fate and had led to the damnation of my soul.

I closed my eyes and I could clearly see the day that had sealed my fate. See that arch devil that came to me His name was Mephisto and even at the tender age of six I knew that wasn't his real name, it was the one he chose at that particular time, he had used several over the millenniums. But I digress, he came to me and gave me a choice, a choice that I had no other alternative but to accept and made me an offer I couldn't refuse.

Double damned movie quotes.

Mephisto had told me that he had come to kill my mother and my Dante, but he offered to spare them, if...if I gave him my soul. That was his price to spare my beautiful and sweet mother and my beloved brother. There was no choice. Spend eternity in torment knowing that I could have done something to stop their deaths or do nothing and spend the rest of my life damning myself for doing nothing. So of course I accepted.

If I had known then what I found out just a two short years later I am not entirely sure if I would have made that deal. The deal that damned me. How was I to know when I was six, that with the exception of my father, who was noble even though he was a devil, that they, the dwellers in the Underworld, were consummate liars. Ah the innocence of youth. The innocence that led you around wearing blinders to what a horrible place the world actually is. The innocence that once you are robbed of it there is no getting it back.

Who the hell did I think I kidding? Of course I would have done the same thing only I would have tried my damnedest to change parts of it.

Father had left for what was supposed to be a short business trip, but what had turned into Dante, mother and I thinking he was dead. Abandonment never crossed my mind. Father would not do that. He loved and cherished us.

Looking back I could see that day saw it as clearly as if it had just happened. Dante and I were celebrating our eighth birthday and mother had given us our gifts. We received one of fathers swords. Dante and I had smiled at each other what an honor having weapons that belonged to our father. Swords that had been in glass display cases. Mother had looked at us and had said that since I was the eldest that I could choose first. I had closed my eyes and let my hand run over the hilts of the swords, and had felt a jump in power when my hand hovered over the katana Yamato and I knew that the elegant weapon had chosen me to be it's new wielder, whereas Force Edge chose Dante.

We also received half of the amulet that father had always worn around his neck but for some reason only known to him he had left it with mother. As with the swords I got to choose first and chose the piece of amulet that was set in gold, not because I knew that Dante had wanted that half, but because I knew that Dante had wanted that half. Confusing? Not really. I wanted to have that half so that every time I looked at it, I would not only remember father and mother, but also Dante.

It was a few days after our November 1st birthday and I was on my way home from school. Dante was home sick, he had gorged himself stupid on way too much Halloween candy and leftover birthday cake. We both knew that if father had been home he would have been forced to suck it up and go to school anyway, but mother was a soft touch where we were concerned.

As I approached home I instantly knew that something was very, very wrong. I started to run towards the house knowing with no uncertainty that I had to get there and save them. Save mother and Dante.

The huge figure of the demon that I had made the deal with manifested before me and roared, his scorching fetid breath washing over me in noxious fumes, "Oh no young Sparda. You are going nowhere." Over the deafening roar of the wind that was coming from his beating wings I swore I could hear my mother screaming in rage, "No not my Vergil, not my Dante. You will not harm my children."

I twisted my body around and somehow managed to get past the demon and rushed up to the house praying that I would find mother and Dante in the safe room that father had built. A room that had wards and spells on it to keep insidious beings like this from harming us.

I had up until that moment thought of mother as being frail, of needing father, Dante and I to protect her from the evils of the world. In hindsight she was anything but a frail helpless woman. She looked like an avenging angel or a Valkyrie and I saw her fighting the demon horde her golden blonde hair streaming around her, using a sword that I had never seen before. Yes she was anything but a helpless woman. She had a hidden strength that to this day I have yet to meet it's equal.

With skillful moves she dispatched one of the demons back to hell and with a look of pure contempt on her beautiful face she had snarled, "Next." And I was proud of her. Proud of this strong woman who had brought Dante and I into the world. Proud to have her as my mother.

I heard a step, thump, step thumping coming from behind me and pivoting around I saw Dante coming down the stairs with Force Edge and Yamato clutched in his small hands. Twisting away again I ran to join him on the stairs and yanked Yamato from his sweaty grip and did something that I had never done before with him…I pulled trump. Played the eldest son card and said my voice shaking with fear but full of authority, "Run Dante. Run and never look back."

He started to protest but I silenced him with an angry wave of my hand and snapped, "Damn you Taye. You do as I say and run and I swear to you that I will save mother and we will find you my brother. My Dante you run." And even though he was reluctant he did as I had bid him to do and had ran.

I turned to join the fray of demons that were attacking mother and destroying our home and even though I couldn't see her due to the mass if bodies, the billowing smoke and debris, I knew she was there because I could still hear her screaming. Not from fear, for as I stated before, she was fearless. Then the screaming stopped and I heard her as she pleaded in a raspy yet soft voice for mercy. Not for herself but for her children and I loved her all the more for it. Then I felt it. Felt in my heart and soul when one of the demons tore into her chest and crushed her heart. In my minds eye I saw the light that had always sparkled in her beautiful blue eyes fade into nothing and I saw her chest raise one last time to breathe her last breath and I heard her voice one more time when she whispered, "Sparda."

I started to scream myself, "Mother!" and started to fight my way past the hoards of demons that were now tearing my mothers body to shreds.

Before I could move into to avenge mother, he appeared. Mephisto, I ran at him and tried over and over again to run him through with Yamato, but he quickly and easily evaded my attacks. Laughing at me and telling me that I was worthless and weak. I spat on him and called him a liar and an oath breaker.

"Oh no young Sparda. I am anything but those things that you accuse me of being." He threw back his head and laughed, then continued his voice full of insidious innuendo, "We never agreed on a time limit spawn of Sparda." He leaned down and picked me up by my chin and lifted my small body up to where my eyes could see into the glowing red orbs of his. His tongue licked along his thin lips and pulling me forward he licked along my cheek and to my ear making me shudder in distaste. He panted into my ear, "The next time you make a deal with the devil make sure that you know what's behind curtain number 3 where Carol Merrill is standing."

Before I could respond I felt his clawed hand enter my rib cage and grab my heart and start to crush it. Before it beat it's last he was knocked aside by something, something that was blurry something that had come to save me. Something that later would think I was dead and bury me.

I started to shake and when it finally stopped I found that I was no longer trapped in the past but back in my spacious room at Bedlam. Glancing over at the wall above my desk I saw on the calendar that tomorrow was visiting day. Tomorrow I would see Dante and I would tell him about that small part of my past and wait for him to condemn me. But now it was time to go to the common room and mingle with the rest of the touched.


	21. Chapter 21

Authors Note: Wow sorry for the delay on this posting. Hopefully will be able to have another one up in a couple of days. Hope everyone had a wonderful Christmas and a Happy New Year. I would also like to say Thanks to everyone that has read and reviewed this story so far.

Entry 21: Grave Secrets

I was waiting in the common area waiting for Dante to show up. I was extremely edgy, wanting to see him but also reluctant. I had made the decision that I needed to tell him about my involvement in our mothers death no matter how unintentionally it was. It was my duty to protect her and Dante while father was away. My responsibility, but I had failed them. But, mostly I had failed myself.

I also knew that before I laid my soul open for Dante and his condemnation, that I had to speak to someone else first. I had to speak to our mother. I had to do more then just light a candle for her, I needed to tell her everything that had transpired in my life since she had been murdered.

"You ready to go babe?" Dante's voice penetrated my ponderings.

With catlike grace I rose from the couch and walked over to him, I didn't need to take anything with me I was just going home for the weekend. I hid my raging emotions behind a mask of bored indifference and the look on his face told me that Dante knew that something was wrong. I sighed and said, "I'll tell you later." Knowing that if I didn't offer something up to him he would pester me to death with the never ending questions of 'what's wrong', 'do you want to talk about it', 'are you mad at me'?, and the list would go on into infinity if I let it.

I followed him out to the parking lot and groaned, of course he had ridden the Harley. I walked over to the Low Rider and waited for Dante to get seated before I swung up behind him and wrapped my arms around his waist and cuddled in close to him inhaling the deep heady scent that was leather and Taye.

On the ride home Dante was strangely quiet, usually when we hadn't seen or spoken to each other for a few days or so he was a chatterbox, an endless fount of information on the latest television shows. But not today, it made me wonder if there was something wrong and I felt the worm of guilt start to gnaw at my stomach. I had been so self absorbed in my own musings, my self-loathing and recriminations that I hadn't stopped to consider the absolute hell my family was going through as well.

When we got home I found that father and Nero had gone into the city for a couple of hours, so that gave Dante and I the house to ourselves. Which was fine with me, after I was finished making peace with mother I would come back and tell my Dante everything.

In my heart I knew he wouldn't damn me, I knew that he would find no fault with me. But my brain was a different matter altogether. My stupid brain that I wanted to shove sharp pointy objects into just to shut it up, would feed the garden of doubt. My own self loathing was the fertilizer that helped it grow. No matter what my heart told me my brain would contradict it.

Before I could tell Dante that there were things that I needed to do before I told him what was laying heavy on my heart I was snapped out of my musings by an all too familiar voice. The voice of one of my tormentors, the one person who other then Mundus I truly hated. The woman who had caused me nothing but misery for 10 long years. If I would have had my Yamato, I would have removed her head from her shoulders and not lost any sleep over it.

The only thing that had kept her safe from my wrath before this was that she was always with Dante and that had been in a more public forum, but, now she was here in my home and I couldn't but wonder what her game was. I pivoted around and glared at Dante and demanded coldly, "What is she doing here? You above anyone else should know how I feel about her Dante."

Before he could reply I spun around and directed my anger at her, the person who dissevered it, "What do you want Trish? Have you come up with new and interesting ways to torment me and torture me?" Not waiting for an answer, I stomped out of the room and continued until I got to the sliding glass backdoors. This was one of those times that I wished it hadn't been glass, but wood. I needed to slam something. Anything, before I went back to the foyer and slammed that woman into a wall.

Grabbing the handle of the backdoor I wrenched it open with enough force that it came halfway off it's track and hung useless on the patio. I heard Dante calling for me to wait but I ignored him and kept going.

As long as she was there I would vacate myself from the premisis and if I had to walk all the way back to New Cross I would, but right now I had a different destination. My steps were quick as I walked up the little hillside where my mother was now buried. Father had wanted to build a shrine for her but Dante and I had vetoed him on that. So instead of a replica of the Taj Mahal, it was just a simple grave surrounded by her favorite flowers, daisies and tiger lilies. There was no angel marking her tomb just a simple piece of polished marble that read Eva Sparda beloved wife and mother, along with her birth and death date.

I walked over to her grave and looked down at it and sighed, even though it hadn't been that long since I had last been here, I still felt like it had been too long. I needed to feel the peace and contentment from her that I always had as a child. I needed to hear her call me 'Vergil Angel', again. No she had not watched A League of Their Own too many times, it had been her endearment for me a special thing that was between mother and son.

I sighed again and knelt down in the grass by her final resting place and whispered softly, "I need to talk to you mother." Like with father she was never mom, mommy, or mama to me, she had and would always be mother. Some may think is condescending, but it was always more respectful and revered for me to address my parents more formally then just as mom and dad.

I absently started to pick daisies and lilies and weave them together in a delicate floral wreath and I spoke again, my voice as soft as a spring breeze, "I am sorry that I haven't been to see you lately. I've been away. I've been away trying to get better." I hesitated, wondering how I could tell her what I had done. Tell this beautiful woman who had been one of the guiding forces in my childhood the atrocities that I had done. How could I tell her that I had become one of the monsters. One of the bad guys. One of those things that she had told Dante and I about. How could I tell her and break her heart.

"I have done things mother. Things that I am so very ashamed of now. Things that I felt was right and just at the time. Things that have damned me." I paused, feeling my throat grow tight and moisture filling my eyes.

Before I could continue talking to her I heard someone coming up the pathway and I halfway expected it to be Dante telling me that 'she' was gone, so I was not expecting to see her.

I dropped the half completed wreath as I leapt to my feet and growled, "That is close enough. You have no right to violate this place."

Trish stopped several yards away from me and started to speak, but I knew she saw the hatred flashing in my eyes and heard it in my voice. She brought her hand up to her mouth and started to chew on her pinky nail and tried to speak again but all that came out was an intelligible squeak.

I growled bitterly, "Look woman if all you came here to do was squeak at me save it." I would come back later. I couldn't violate my mothers resting place by spewing my venom at her. I started up the path towards her and upon reaching her, I was proud of my restraint, I did not wrap my hands around her neck and choke the life out of her, nor did I strike her to the ground, what I did do was pause and say in a soul chilling voice, "Tell Dante I will speak to him later. Tell him that I am going back to the asylum." Then stormed away but was stopped when she finally found her voice.

"Vergil, please wait." She said softly.

It was the please that made me stop. That one word that I didn't think was in her vocabulary. I turned back around slowly and wished I hadn't.

How dare she. How dare she cry. She had no right to cry. None whatsoever. After everything that she subjected me to she had the unimaginable cheek to stand there with tears in her eyes. I hissed at her, "Don't you dare."

She dashed the tears away and started to speak again, although this time it was different her voice was. It was not those honeyed tones that she used on me when I was a child. It was different. Her voice was mature and like her apology it was filled with the last thing I ever expected to hear, regret. The tears that she had so recently wiped away started to fall again.

In my blind hatred of her I thought I would be immune to anything she said,. Anything she did. I thought my absolute disdain of her would make it possible for me to blank out her word. So I was unprepared for the floodgate of memories that opened and cascaded over me. I remembered a part of my past that I had managed to blank out until that point in time. A past that I had chosen and needed to forget.

What was it that brought this fresh wave of memories to the foreground? Was it the regret in her voice or the tears on her cheeks.

In the wash of memories that cascaded over me her voice was no longer mature or filled with absolution, it was the soft sweet tones that had belonged to my mother. It was the voice that had haunted and tormented me in my waking hours and in my nightmares. The harsh criticizing words of, 'You are a disappointment', 'If you weren't so weak you could have saved us', 'Dante would have been strong enough to protect me.' 'You let me die. How dare you call yourself a son of Sparda.' Then her voice would change, her words would no longer be hurtful and recriminating, but full of darker things. Softly spoken words of seduction, 'Pleasure me Vergil.' Her hands soft, warm and gentle stroking and touching my body demanding a response from me. Her mouth, hot and wet against me. Trying to force a response from my prepubescent body.

When I was old enough to achieve an erection it was her that had fed me the drugs. It did not matter how much I protested to this new violation, my body would respond and I would go from unwilling to being an insatiable beast. Needing to fed the hunger that the aphrodisiacs raised in me. And I would take her over and over again, giving into her demands to be fucked. And fuck her I would, her and anyone else who wanted me. Like I have stated earlier, I was anybody and everybody's meat.

But there were things that I hadn't wanted to remember. As long as I told myself that I had not been willing then it was all right. Right? But now I knew the truth, I had been less then a whore. Somehow in my twisted way of thinking I didn't see it as consensual rape, I saw myself as willing and that made me the lowest thing that had ever walked the planet.

I knew in that moment why I had blocked those particular things and shook my head in denial as I saw all those horrible memories flash in fast-forward before my eyes. The memories that I had eventually convinced myself were not mine, but someone else's. I had always tried to be mother and father's 'good' boy. And things like that didn't happen to 'good' children. I knew that they weren't supposed to happen to anyone. But they had. They had happened to me.

"No!" I said softly. Wanting and needing to make it all go away again. But no matter how much I protested they would not go back behind the wall that I had built to keep them at bay. The wall was like any other great fortitude that had been built, when the crack in it was found all that was needed was the right amount of pressure and it would collapse in a heap of rubble and leave you vulnerable. I started to scream and cry, "No! No! No! It didn't happen to me. It didn't happen to me." But it had and now I knew it.

Trish stepped forward to...what? Comfort me? I didn't know. The only thing that I was aware of was that I needed to get away from her. I needed to go to my safe place. Not my happy place, but my safe one. I felt my inner fortitude start to throw up bricks again and I knew that soon I would be safe behind a wall again.

"NO!" I screamed at her when I saw her hand come forward, "Do not touch me. Don't you dare touch me." I hit my knees and continued to howl and scream out my horror and pain. And no matter how hard I tried to build a fortress around those memories again nothing I could do would erase them from my mind or ease the sorrow which was now me. The sorrow of the damned. The sorrow of the little boy knowing that the woman who was being cruel to him was not his mother but someone else who looked like her and sounded like her. The only thing that was different was her smell, that was something that they couldn't duplicate. The sweet earthy smell that was Eva Sparda. Eventually they broken me and when they had succeeded she was there, mother, but not mother, to help him rebuild who he was. They turned him from the wide eyed innocent into a cold hearted ruthless machine. A machine of destruction and vengeance. A machine who's only worth was his ability to follow orders without question and to pleasure those who were in his masters favor.

I felt her arms wrap around me as I relived those times, the times when my master, would want something done and send for me, his Dark Slayer, his Vengeance, to carry out his wrath. I had systematically eradicated legions of people and other demon lords all for him. All for my master. All for the hope that maybe, just maybe I might get scraps from his table. In the end it been for nothing. There was no praise for me. No laurels to adorn the brow of this mighty warrior. There had been nothing. And that is what I had become, I was nothing.

I pulled back from her and saw the bleakness on her face, the face that mirrored my beloved mothers, her lips parted and I knew she was going to speak, and when she did it was something that I had thought that she was incapable of, two simple words that cut me open, "I'm sorry."

Before I could pull away I was drawn in closer to her and she continued speaking softly against my ear, "I'm sorry Vergil. So very sorry for what I did to you. For what I allowed to be done to you." I turned my head slightly and my cheek brushed against hers and the salty tears that fell from her eyes and trailed down her cheeks mixed with the ones that were running down my face.

She spoke again, "I understand fully why you can't forgive me and why you hate me. Why should you forgive me? When I can't forgive myself. I just wanted to let you know that I am sorry. I wish I had been woman enough at that time to stand up to Mundus and tell him that I wouldn't do it. But I was afraid Vergil, so very afraid of what he would do to me. I was nothing more then his puppet, his creation. I tortured you and betrayed Dante. I have been nothing but a scourge on the noble name and house of Sparda."

Trish tried to pull away from me but I held her fast and tight. She was as much of his victim as I was. She had been created by him for one sole purpose and that was to aide in the destruction of the Sparda name. I knew in that instant that if I forgave her it would help me heal. She needed my forgiveness as much as I needed to give it to her. I wanted and needed people to forgive me for what I had done to them in the past. Was I any different then her. Was my moral high ground any less rocky then hers? I knew the answer was no.

I brought my hand up and brushed the tears off her cheeks and said softly, "I forgive you Trish." It was heartfelt and sincere. I felt my own tears begin anew only this time they wee not the tears of the damned, but tears of healing. Tears that helped wash away that hurt."How? How can you possibly forgive me Vergil? When I can't forgive myself." Trish hiccoughed out.

Somehow I managed to smile through my tears and answered her question, "We were his pawns Trish. Pawns that he used in his sick and twisted games." I pulled her in close to me again and said, "You were as much his victim as I was Trish. I don't know what else to tell you. I don't know what you want me to say. If you want me to hate and revile you. I can't do it. I just can't."

I really didn't understand why and how I had blocked all that out until now, I needed to speak with my therapist about this break through. Why now? I had seen her before this. Why now was I plagued with these memories about my past. Was it the innocent child I had been that had made those things 'go away' and only let me remember digging myself out of hell. Or was it the adult that refused to believe those things had happened. I didn't know. I did know one thing that it wasn't false memories that I was having. They were all so very real.

Pushing her gently away I said, "Trish I need you to go back to the house. I will talk to you more when I get back. I…" I paused, not wanting to share with her what I was doing here. Not wanting anyone to know that I had come to this lonely hillside to make peace with my mother. I sighed and continued, "I need to be alone right now. When I get back to the house we will talk more then."

Trish nodded and replied, "Okay Vergil." Then smiled softly at me turned and walked down the hill and back towards the house.

I watched her walk away and once she was out of sight I turned back around and knelt down picking up the chain of flowers that I had been working on I continued speaking to my mother as if we hadn't been interrupted, "There are things that I need to tell you mother. Things that I have done and things that were done to me. Horrible things." I tried to finish the wreath of flowers but found that I was blinded by the saltiness of my tears.

I sat down completely and there in the growing darkness I told her everything that I could remember. Told her about the abuse that had happened to me, told her about the things that I had done. My voice caught and my throat grew tighter as I told her about what I had done to Dante. "I am so very sorry mother. So very sorry that I wasn't strong enough to protect you and Dante. That is the one thing that I can never forgive myself for, that I was weak. I was to weak to save you and that I was a double damned fool to have ever trusted a demon."

Rising to my feet I placed the half finished flower chain n her grave and dusted off my pants I turned to walk away when I felt it. I felt that I wan no longer alone on the hill. The presence that I felt was not malevolent but one that was pure.

Before I could turn I heard a voice that I hadn't heard in over 15 years, "Vergil Angel."


	22. Chapter 22

Disclaimer: I do not own the rights to Devil May Cry nor do I have any rights to the name Breaking Benjamin and the song I will not Bow. There is also a couple of quotes in here that loosely appear in Major Payne.

Entry 22: An Angels Prayer

After leaving Casa de Cuckoo and starting a regime of medication that actually worked and didn't keep me blissfully comatose I hadn't experienced any of the hallucinations that I had before. So hearing my dead mothers voice was the last thing in the world that I was expecting.

Even though the presence behind me didn't feel evil I was not going to be fooled again. After all it did say in the Christian Bible that Satan himself masquerades as an angel of light. I would not turn. I wouldn't do it. I knew in my heart that as soon as I did that it wouldn't be my mother standing there but some new and interesting thing that hell had spewed out to torture and torment me.

Yet there was that sweet aura of gentleness that was always Eva Sparda, the warm smell of lavender and vanilla that seemed to surround her, that soft timbre of her voice, and I mustn't forget the use of the nickname that she and only she had ever used.

Before I could contemplate my next move she spoke again, "Vergil Angel, my beautiful son. Don't be afraid, I mean you no harm."

My heart was tight in my chest and it was getting more and more difficult for me to breathe. My heart and the rest of my body made the decision before my stupid brain could interfere again with it's damned logic. I turned and once more I hit my knees. This wasn't some delusion of my insanity it was real, my mother had returned and I felt moisture fill my eyes.

I saw her walk towards me and she knelt down and pulled me into her warm embrace and said softly, "Shhh, my sweet boy. Don't cry." I felt her long elegant fingers stroke my cheeks and brushing stray tendrils of hair off my face.

"Mot…moth…mother. How?" I managed to stutter out past the lump in my throat.

"Even angels have their prayers answered Vergil."

An angel? Of course how could mother be anything else but an angel?

I felt safe in the warm comfort of her arms, I was no longer a man who had physically, mentally and emotionally been to hell and back. I was a child who had had a nightmare and she had come to rescue me.

Thinking of my childhood brought a new wash of memories. Things that I had buried so deep in my subconscious that when they did come to the surface I was convinced that they were not my memories, but a dream of a fractured child. A child who had had the happily ever after family. A child who didn't know that there were actual monsters and that they lived in the light as well as the dark.

She knew or she had a damn good idea where my thoughts had taken me. She asked softly, "Vergil do you remember what happened when Dante swore up and down that there was a monster in your closet?"

I thought back to that time, and smiled, then I started to laugh. She hadn't been the conventional mother in that situation, who brought in a atomizer decorated with ribbons, glitter and other frippery that was filled with a perfumed colored water, that would be sprayed under our beds and in the closet to chase away the monsters. No, there was none of that for Eva Sparda.

She had come into our room and pointed at the closet and asked, "Is that where he is?" Dante was cuddled up against me trembling and had nodded his head up and down in the affirmative. Reaching behind her she pulled out one of the pistols that she carried and fired off several rounds through the closet door, looked over at Dante and I and said, "Now my boys, if he's still in there he ain't happy."

Then she came over to my bed sat down and pulled Dante and I in against her and said, "My sons, no matter how much I would like to tell you that there are no monsters and that there is nothing bad in the world, I can't and I won't do it. But, I want you to know that as long as there is breath in my body I will protect you."

That was one of the many things that I loved about her, was that she had always been honest with Dante and I, not sugar coating the bitter pill of life making it easier for us to swallow.

The following day father had come into our room and saw the bullet holes in the closet and had asked what had happened. Dante gave him a cheeky grin and replied, "Mama terminated the monster in the closet with extreme prejudice."

I gave him a sideways look and added, "If he's still in there he ain't happy."

Father threw his head back and laughed, then drew us into a tight hug and said in a regally arrogant tone, "Now my sons I have another lesson for you and this is something that I want you to remember and that is that 'we' are Sparda, and 'we' do not have nightmares. 'We' bring them."

I pulled my head off of mother's shoulder and laughed softly, "No matter how much I believed him I know that he was wrong."

"Who Vergil, who was wrong?"

"Father. When he told Dante and I that we didn't have nightmares we brought them." I brought my hand up and stroked her soft cheek and continued, "After everything that happened I know that even demons have nightmares."

Even though I didn't want to tell her about the atrocities that I had committed and the violations that had been forced on me, I couldn't stop the words as they tumbled from my mouth.

I told her, told her things that I hadn't shared with anyone. I told her how I became the thing that people feared in the dark the monster in the closet. How I had seduced the lover of Regos, one of the higher level demons, and had killed him and had bathed in his blood and eaten his heart, to gain his power and how he had not been my first kill nor was he my last, and when Regos had returned he had found me sitting on his throne and when he asked where Todd was I had laughed and replied, "Feeding my dogs." Before he could respond I killed him and took his power into myself.

I told her that after that I was taken and trained to be The Dark One's Vengeance, "and that's all I was mother. I was either someone's meat or his vengeance. Until I clawed myself out of that place and I swore that I would never be anyone's slave again. I wanted the power that was my fathers. I knew that if I had that power that no one would every be able to hurt me again, and I didn't give a damn who I hurt to get it." I paused and shook my head, smiled and continued, "Including Dante."

The laughter died on my lips and I started to rage and cry, "Including Dante! Not once, but several times. I tired to commit fratricide on my brother. My twin, the other half of my tortured soul. The other half of my heart. I didn't care I wanted him dead because he did not see things my way and he was just another stepping stone on my path to power and glory."

"But you didn't Vergil Angel. You didn't. As far back as written and oral history go, starting with Cain and Abel one brother has always slew the other. But you didn't Vergil. You didn't. You tried, but you never did. Something always stopped you from delivering the killing blow. Did you ever stop to wonder why?"

I couldn't think of a reason and replied, "No."

She reached forward and cupped my face in her hands and said, "There is a reason that I call you Vergil Angel. Well one it is your true given name, your father added the 'o' on the end, some inane reason about other demons making fun of him."

She smiled and said, "You remember how you said that even demons have nightmares? So do angels."

"What?"

"I'm not entirely human Vergil, like you and Dante I am a hybrid, half human half angel. But that my son is a story for another day."

She leaned in and kissed me on the forehead and said, "Ah Vergil, you and Dante may be half demon but you are also a quarter angel. That will be our secret for now, when the time is right you can tell Dante. For now you need this peace my son. The peace that you are not truly as evil as you would believe. You couldn't deliver the killing blow, due to the confliction of emotions that raged in your heart and soul. I only know what I was allowed to see. When you had the opportunity to deliver the death strokeyou didn't. Why? What stayed your hand?"

"I was afraid that would you think less of me, that you would be disappointed in me. There was that and there was also the fact that I would think less of myself. No matter no how much I wanted that power, I could never bring myself to truly kill my Dante."

"Ah Vergil, I would never think less of you. You are my baby, my first born and nothing will ever make me love you less then I do right now. You have made me so very proud my son. Even though you became the scourge of hell, you are still my Vergil and you always will be. You have found that the greatest power of all love. You have also become so very strong, no matter what happened to you, you did not let it break you."

"Nietzsche said it best mother, 'That which does not kill us makes us stronger.' But then again so did Breaking Benjamin in I Will Not Bow." I reached forward and stroked her cheek and said, "I'm so very sorry."

"For what?" She replied to my apology.

"That I wasn't strong enough to protect you and Dante." The tears started to flow again as I continued, "I didn't only do it for myself mother, I did it to make sure that the people that I loved would never be hurt again. Not realizing at the time that I was hurting them in my desire to gain ultimate power. That in this selfishness that I would be damning the world. That I would be responsible to the deaths of legions of innocents. But, no it didn't matter to me. The only thing that mattered was what I wanted, what I deserved. To hell with everyone else. It was all about me."

"Dante asked me what I was going to do with all that power. How could I tell him that I wanted to save him. Wanted to make sure that he was never hurt again. But in my arrogance I couldn't admit that he was my weakness, my Achilles heel. If the lords of hell had known that the only thing it would have taken to break me was harming him, they would have done it."

"Using a replica of you in Trish came close, but in my heart and soul I knew that she wasn't you. But if they had made a doppelganger of Dante and had tortured him in front of me, it would have destroyed me."

"Ah mother, I was a fool. A fool to believe Mephisto." I managed to pull away from her and I pounded the ground with my fist and I howled out my rage, "I was weak. I was no strong enough to save you and Dante and I knew it." I looked up and I knew there was a snarl on my lips, "Even at that tender age I was arrogant. Thinking that I had got the better of that devil lord. Thinking how very proud of me that father would be when he returned home. How he had been correct in telling me that while he was gone I was 'the man of the house', how he had been correct in leaving me in charge of protecting you and Dante…"

"He did what?" Mother's voice interrupted me. Before I could reply she continued, "Let me see if I have this right. Your Neanderthal prehistoric barbarian of a father left a child in charge." She jumped to her feet and started to trounce back and forth, wings fluttering in her anger. "I have no idea where he got the preconceived notion that I was some milk and water miss, never have been and never will be. If I had a gun I swear that I would put another bullet in his empty head."

She stopped pacing and sat back down beside me and said, "Vergil my sweet little lamb it was never your responsibility to keep us safe. That was my 'supposed' to be my job. But your pigheaded chauvinistic father seemed to forget that."

I though her tirade about father was over but I was wrong when she leapt to her feet again and started to pace back and forth again posing comments to not only me but the universe at large, "Looking back maybe I shouldn't have shot him in the head, it probably gave him brain damage. No not possible since you have to have a brain to damage in the first place."

I really did try to hold my laughter back but when she let out one of the zingers that I had used myself I couldn't fight it anymore when she said, "Did his parents have any children that did not take the short bus to school?"

My laughter stopped her and she flounced back down beside me and said, "Forgive me Vergil, but sometimes that man is just so frustrating and he is…he is…he is…ARGH!"

"Lucky that breathing comes naturally?" I offered and went off to more peals of laughter.

Her response was to start laughing, somehow she managed to get past the laughter and replied, "Not exactly what I was thinking but it will do."

She waved her hand over her shoulder and replied in an exasperated tone, "Yes I know that my time is almost up, but you have to understand something Mr. Impatience and that is, that this is the first time in 15 years that I have seen my son. So don't get your panti…halo in a twist."

I felt one of my eyebrows arch and a smirk danced across my mouth, "Should you be talking to him that way?"

"Oh, don't worry about it Tyler is only a messenger for now."

I laughed, "So he fly's couch where you go first class?"

She laughed, "Something like that."

"Ah mother I wish you could stay longer. I would love for Dante to see you again and I'm sure that you would adore…"

"I know about Nero and I am happy that your father has finally found peace." She let out another exasperated breath, "Yes, I know." She hugged me and leaning up just a little gave me a quick kiss on the cheek. "I do have to go, but I promise that I will come and visit you again. And like I have said before let's keep this a secret for now." She vanished in a soft roll of thunder and warm rain.

I didn't run back to the house like a sane person would, instead I stood there on the hilltop laughing and dancing in the rain.

_Authors note: Just a quick note to let you know that the one line in here about Sparda having any children that did not the short bus to school, I had used that line in The Seven Faces of Vergil, so that is why I referred to it as one of Vergil's favorite zingers._

_Also I want to thank everyone that has read and reviewed so far. I am sorry about the time that elapsed in between updates. I will try to get more done soon._

_Thank you so much,_

_Eddy_


	23. Chapter 23

_Authors note and disclaimer: Still don't own them and probably never will, more's the pity.  
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_Sorry it took so long to update.  
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_As always reviews are more then welcome  
_

_Entry 23: Closure_

I couldn't help it, I continued to dance and laugh in the warm rain that poured down on me and to tell the truth the rain could have been ice cold and it wouldn't have bothered me. I didn't care if I looked like a lunatic. The guilt and shame that I had been carrying around with me was being washed away. The dancing was my ritual to help bury it in the ground never to bother me again. Or so I hoped.

I felt another presence and spinning around I saw Dante standing under a huge oak tree watching me, a smile of pleasure was on his full sensuous mouth, his eyes sparkled with a questioning amusement. He knew that I saw him and as he started walking towards me I stopped dancing.

When he reached me he drew me into his arms kissed me and asked, "Are you alright?"

I returned his kiss and replied, "Yes. In fact I haven't felt this good in a very long time."

The concern was apparent in his voice, "I'm glad you're feeling better. I was worried about you." He pulled me in closer and I was expecting him to just hold me so I was surprised when he started to sway back and forth, moving his body to a music that only he could hear. He nuzzled his nose against my ear and murmured against my neck, "Dance with me Vergil."

I started to move against him our bodies moving in sync with each other not caring about anything accept the closeness that was shared at this moment. The world could have crashed down around us and I wouldn't have cared. I was safe and I was happy and that was all that mattered.

I am not sure how long Dante and I had just swayed against each other I could have stayed wrapped in the comfort of his arms for the next 100 years or so and been perfectly content.

"Babe, it's gotten cold and dark. Why don't we go back to the house get out of these wet clothes and…" he paused and I pulled back from him a little not breaking contact but wanting to see his face. There was a raw hunger in his eyes. A hunger that demanded satisfaction, a need that desired to be fed, physically and emotionally. He paused fighting for control and searching for the right words, "and we can dance some more, and maybe, just maybe…". He closed his eyes and drew his lower lip in between his teeth chewing nervously.

"Maybe what my hero. My Dante." I whispered in the chill night air.

His body language told me that he was reluctant to answer and he sighed deeply releasing his lip, "Maybe you will finally open up and tell me what is really bothering you. Please Vergil! Please tell me."

I sighed deeply, searching for the right words to reassure him, but before I could even contemplate answering, Dante shoved against me breaking the embrace. His face suddenly changed from one of love and concern to hatred and hurt, and he snarled, "Fine. Maybe I am expecting to god damned much from you. Maybe I thought that you possibly loved me enough to tell me why you still scream yourself awake from nightmares. Maybe, just fucking maybe that you would finally trust me enough to tell me the fucking truth instead of placating me with lies and innuendo."

I tried to speak again and he yelled at me, "What surprised that I know some big words? Well I do you frigid uptight emotionless prick." He spun in a swirl of red leather trench coat and stomped back towards the house.

"What the…?" I said and started down the hill after him and shouted at him, "Dante! Dante wait." I ran after him, tripped and went sprawling on the ground in not only mud but also wet leaves. "Mother fucking, son of a bitch!" I swore and tried pushing to my knees only to have my hands slip on the mulch that covered the trail and send me sprawling yet again.

In the next instant Dante was looming over me, reaching down he grabbed my arm and yanked me to my feet and snarled, "What's wrong princess upset that you got dirt on your immaculate person?" Then turned to stomp off again.

"Piss up a rope and get hit in the face with the backsplash you stupid asshole." I snapped at his back. I grabbed his shoulder and spun him around, doubling up my fist I punched him dead in the face. "I was planning on telling you everything tonight Dante. Everything, but now I don't think I can. You said that you thought I loved you enough to tell you. There is no thinking about it, you moronic imbecile. I do love you enough. I love you more then enough. You want to know why I didn't tell you before? Why I couldn't tell you? Because I didn't think I was strong enough to handle the rejection that I saw on your face when I told you that I was little more then a whore. That I was anybody's meat that wanted me. That I was less then the vermin that is mashed under a boot heel."

I had so wanted to tell him under different circumstances. I had wanted to be bathed and clean when I told him about my being striped of my glory. I had wanted soft candlelight and the warm comfort of his arms around me. But I knew as I was standing there screaming out my fury and pain at him that the tattered and dirty rags of my dignity was more apropos.

"From the time I was 7 years old until I had become strong enough to fight back and to kill my adversaries I was…" I paused the words burning like acid on my tongue, "I was raped. Night after night, time and time again. I was nothing more then an object. I was tortured. You think that raping someone is the worst thing that you can do to them? Well you are wrong, I am proof of it, you self-righteous sanctimonious prick."

My eyes filled with tears and I felt them running down my face, my voice hitched, and I continued, "More then the rejection on your face Dante I didn't want to see the pity."

I turned my back on him, not wanting to see his face. Not wanting to see the emotions that I knew were there. The rejection, the hatred and disgust, and of course the pity. I sank down to the ground wrapped my arms around my upper body and continued to cry. My voice broke when I spoke again, "I want father to bind my powers so I can never use them again and I want to go back to New Cross and stay there. For good! It will be what is best for every ones health and wellbeing. I don't want anyone to come to visit me again. It gives me a sense of comfort that I don't deserve. But most of all I want everyone to get on with their lives and pretend that I never existed. I can just be a dirty little secret that is not mentioned in polite company."

I sat there in the middle of that muddy path a shattered ruin, every defense mechanism that I had ever used was no longer at my disposal. They were gone scattered like leaves in the wind. I whispered to the night, "I wish he would have never came and rescued me. I wish he would have just left me in hell."

I felt another set of arms close over mine, and was pulled close to Dante's body again, "Shhh! Verge. It's okay baby. It's okay." I felt warm drops on my neck and knew it wasn't the rain, since it had stopped. Dante rocked me back and forth and said softly, "I hurt you baby, and I am sorry." He paused and continued his voice filled with regret, "I hurt you because I was hurting myself. I…I just wanted you to open up to me and tell me what was wrong and I behaved like a dickhead."

He released me and grabbed my shoulders twisting me around and cradling me in his arms, his voice tender, "Vergil, it's more then pity that I feel. I…I don't know how to explain it." He shook his head in confusion. "All I know is that if I could, I would resurrect them all and kill them all over again for what they did to you. I want them to suffer for it. I want them to regret ever touching you. I want to hear them scream and beg for mercy. It makes me want to puke that someone could do that to you."

He stood and yanked me in close to him and I felt him trembling with rage, "I swear to you Princess no one will ever hurt you again. Not while I'm still breathing anyway. And if they do it after I am gone, I will come back and go poltergeist on their ass." He picked me up bridal style and whispered, "Are you still willing to tell me?"

I rested my head against his shoulder and replied, "Yes but, could we please go back to the house and get out of these wet clothes."

"Yeah as long as you don't say anything about going back to the nut farm on a permanent basis."

"I won't."

"Promise?"

"I promise." I replied and left it at that. No matter what I had always kept my promises to him and this was no exception.

He carried me down the path to the house, upon arriving he paused by the door, and shifted around trying to hold me one armed so he didn't have to release me. Since he needed the help, I unwrapped one of my arms from around his neck and started to reach down and open the door letting out a startled squeak when it was yanked open.

"Hey you guys are back the old man and I are heading into town to get something for dinner. You want to come with?" Nero asked us.

I looked at Dante leaving the decision up to him, "No thanks kid, but you can bring us takeout."

"Are you sure?"

"Nero, leave it be." Father said from behind him, then to Dante and I, "I'll put your dinner in the refrigerator when we get back that way you can eat whenever you feel like it. Come along Nero." He said softly. I saw the questions burning in his eyes and knew eventually I would have to tell him as well, but first Dante.

He hadn't sat me down yet and I knew he wasn't going to until we got to our room. He carried me up the stairs and proved me wrong by not stopping but continuing into the bathroom where he finally sat me on my feet, reached into the glassed in shower and turned the water on.

He had been silent on the trip upstairs and had remained that way as he quickly stripped the clothing from our bodies. He picked me up again and stepped into the shower and just held me as the hot water pelted down on us.

"If you put me down we can get clean quicker." I offered to his commonsense.

I knew he was reluctant to do so but he placed me to my feet, before I could reach it he had grabbed the shower gel and a pouf added a liberal amount of the gel and worked it into a lather. Once it was nice and bubbly he started to bathe me causing me to sigh in contentment.

Once he was finished bathing me I reached for the pouf so I could return the favor by washing him down only to find my hand slapped away. "I can finish faster on my own baby." He said his voice had gone husky.

I made the decision to try one of his tricks, one that always worked on me. Don't tell him that. I pouted.

Yes I pouted, Vergil Angelo, no Angel, Sparda, once the scourge of the underworld and a prince of hell stuck his lower lip out and pouted like a petulant child. I had seen Dante do this several times and damn it to hell it always worked. No matter whom he did it to. All he had to do was open those brilliant blue eyes to the limit and do the lip wibble thing and there was no one this side of heaven or hell that could resist him.

Dante stared at me like I had lost my mind, and maybe for that short moment I had. "What in the hell are you doing?" He asked, voice dripping with amused sarcasm. He knew, and I knew that he knew, and he knew that I knew that he knew.

I answered still trying to pout, "Wibbling."

Dante laughed, "Ah baby you should know better. Don't try the wibble on the greatest wibbler the world has ever known." Then stuck his own lower lip out and demonstrated the proper way to lip wibble.

I started to laugh, and stuck out my lip again and asked, "Like this?"

His reply caused me to draw in a sharp breath as he sucked my lower lip into his mouth and nibbled on it. "Oh yeah baby that was perfect." He replied as he released my lip.

I wrapped my arms around his neck and undulated against his slick body, "So tell me what else I can learn under your…", I blatantly rubbed my groin against his feeling him grow even harder against me, "tutelage."

"Tutelage? So that's the technical term for it. And all these years I thought it was my cock." He growled and cupped my ass in his hands.

"You are so vile." I laughed huskily at him.

"Damn straight I am but that's what you love about me baby. You love that I am vile. But I know what you really love." He smirked as he released my ass and reached over shut the shower off.

Stepping out of the shower I grabbed a towel and handed it to him then took one for myself and wrapped it around my waist and asked, "Really? And what might that be?"

His eyes sparked with mischief, "Why my huge tutelage princess."

I started to laugh and continued to do so even as he dried us both off, even when he picked me up and tossed me over his shoulder and carried me into the bedroom I was still laughing.

He dropped me in the middle of the bed and jumped in beside me and cuddled in close he had been laughing up to that point but once we were cuddled up together he turned serious and said softly, "Tell me."

I sobered and I told him. Like with mother I told him everything. Once I was finished I looked at him and knew that I had been wrong on my earlier assumptions on what would be painted across his face.

It was not hate, nor was it pity and disgust. It was pain and sorrow. Tears had left salty rivulets on his cheeks. I had been so caught up in telling him what had happened I hadn't realized that he had started to cry. I reached forward and traced the tearstains with my fingertips and whispered, "Please don't cry anymore Dante. You will shatter my heart if you do."


	24. Chapter 24

_Authors note: First of to everyone that has read and reviewed so far a big thank you. Secondly I am so sorry that it took so long to update this I know that those of you who also write knows that you either hit a wall of writers block and you are not sure which way to go, and or real life invades. I had both happen to me. I got some great advice from a couple of friends and managed to get over the hurdle. _

_This chapter is dedicated with love to Noah B. and Brenda L. _

_Disclaimer: Still don't own them._

_Entry 24: Ecclesiastes 3: 1-8 _

Dante smiled sadly at me and I knew that in my telling him about the atrocities that I had not only lived through but that I had also committed, I had broken his heart. Seeing all the pain and anguish that he was feeling for me was the completion of my undoing.

Seeing my self-assured, wise cracking, smart assed brother broken made me want to take it all back. His contempt and pity I could have lived with, even though it would have chaffed me raw, I could have dealt with that. But the pain and heartbreak that I saw in his eyes and stamped across his face shattered me. Shattered me as completely as a crystal vase flung against a brick wall.

"Taye I…"

He placed two fingers over my lips and said softly, "No Verge, you have nothing to be sorry for." He flung himself from our bed and stomped over to the closet where he pulled out a pair of leather pants and yanked them up his long muscular legs, and proceeded to do some of the most creative swearing I had ever heard come out of his mouth.

He turned to the bed and saw me still sitting in the middle of it, the confusion I was feeling was clearly showing on my face, before I could put to words my question, he picked up Rebellion and growled, "I'm going to kill that son of a bitch." He reached out and grasped the door knob and pulled the door open, unfortunately he hadn't taken time to turn the knob and wound up yanking the door off it's hinges.

I crawled out of the bed and said, "Dante, Mundus is already dead and so is Mephisto."

He flung the door aside as he turned back to where I was standing and gave me a baffled look, "What? I know they are babe, I wasn't talking about them. I was talking about HIM!" The him was shouted loud enough to shake the paintings on the walls and with that he stomped out of the room.

I did the only thing that I could think of, I started to follow him, but stopped at the opening where the door had once been when I remembered that I was nude. I grabbed a pair of pants and quickly shimmied into them and ran to catch up to him.

I didn't have to go far, I found him in front of our father's bedroom door, not pausing to knock or even turn the knob, no nothing so elegant or refined for Dante. He brought his foot up and kicked the double oak doors out of the frame and snarled, "Oh daddy time to wake up!"

I saw father leap from his bed and grab for a sword but paused when he saw that it was Dante, "What? Is the house on fire? What's wrong?"

For some reason I knew that Dante had gone past the point of being well and truly pissed off, to say he was furious, would also be a gross understatement.

"You want to know what's wrong you fucking idiot? I'll tell you what's wrong. You! You are what's wrong. What in the hell were you thinking?" Dante yelled.

Father sighed and said nonchalantly, "Perhaps if you were to provide me with a small hint of what has you up in arms Dante, then I could answer your questions. But right now you are rambling, and if that is all you are going to do then perhaps it can wait until morning."

Dante leapt across the space that was separating them leaving a faint odor of brimstone in his wake. He grabbed our father by his neck and pounded him into the wall, and hissed, "Wrong answer."

I turned slightly at the sound of a door opening and saw our younger brother Nero standing in his doorway, he stretched, yawned and asked sleepily, "What's going on?"

I didn't have the opportunity to answer because Dante continued his rant, "What was wrong with you? People say that I'm slow, but old man you make me seem like a freaking genius."

"Now Dante I have never said you were slow." Father managed to gag out.

"SHUT UP!" Dante roared, "Just shut up!" He kept a firm grip on our fathers throat but drug him across the room to where Nero and I were standing and pointed at me and barked, "Look at him. You look at him, you stupid fuck." Then shook him, "He was a child. A little boy that you left in charge while you went out doing god knows what."

I could tell father was starting to get angry as well, on him the smell of sulfur was stronger and I knew that if something was not done to defuse this volatile situation, someone was going to get seriously hurt as my father and my lover exploded into full majin form.

"I don't want to hurt you Dante so you had best release me." Father growled.

Dante did release him but it was accomplished by flinging him across the room and into a wall, "Hurt me? Hurt me?" The question was followed by Dante leaping the distance and grabbing father by the neck again and shouting, "Hurt me! You have destroyed me."

Dante tightened his grip on fathers throat pivoted gracefully and pounded him into the bed with enough force to move the heavy oak frame several inches across the floor. Picking him up again he slammed him down again this time it was powerful enough to cause the frame to collapse from the stress that was put on it.

Pieces of wood fell down on top of them like so much kindling from the four posters that held so recently heavy brocaded bed curtains, that when released from there stays fell down on the combatants like a funeral shroud.

In the next moment the curtains and Dante were flung up to the ceiling, our father followed behind him. They met in midair father going up and Dante coming down and went tumbling through the air in an aero ballet.

Dante had managed to sink a clawed hand into our fathers chest causing our sire to yelp in pain. He broke the hold by bringing the palm of his hand up and under Dante's nose, if my brother and I had been more human and less hybrid the blow would have probably killed him.

The force of the blow was enough to send Dante across the room where he hit the wall hard enough to make support beams scream in protest. Father flew the short distance separating them and before my lover could regain his bearings grabbed him by the neck and slammed him repeatedly into the wall. Each blow caused more creaking from the wooden structure of the wall, small cracks begin to appear and paint flaked off and showered the two titanic warriors.

Father angrily panted out, "What are you rambling about."

With faster then lightening moves Dante punched our father in the throat gaining his immediate release then delivered several hard rapid punches to his stomach and chest. "YOU!" The word was shouted. "I am rambling about YOU. YOU are over 10,000 years old and you should have known better." Each word was accentuated by more blows to our sires body. On a mortal man or even a lesser demon the severity of the hits would have killed them.

Dante released him and as father stumbled back a few steps my brother brought up one huge clawed foot and delivered a severe kick to his knee and dislocated it. Father fell to the floor in a groan of agony but he didn't stay there once again Dante grabbed him by the neck and yanked him across the room to where Nero and I had been watching the combatants in silence.

I had known what was happening the first time that Dante had had forced father to look at me. Those words of, 'He was a child.', had told me everything I needed to know and it warmed my heart. Dante was doing what Dante did best, he was being the hero and it made me love him even more then I already did.

As for Nero I had no idea what he was thinking but the look of stunned astonishment on his face spoke volumes and it made me realize in that moment that Nero was a lot like Dante, he was young, but he was a hero the matter was brought to light as he started to step around me to help. I wasn't sure whom he was going to try and help but I knew that he would get seriously hurt if he did interfere. Placing my hand on his shoulder I stopped him and said, "No, this is not our fight but theirs." I knew that it chaffed him but he listened and stepped back muttering about no one telling him anything.

Dante forced father to his knees again and hooking two claw like fingers in his nostrils yanked his head up and panted out his voice a graveled growl, "Everything that has happened to him is your fault. You in all your arrogance left him in charge. We were children. Tell me something dad, did you ever stop to consider that Vergil and I are part human?"

Not waiting for an answer Dante pulled fathers head further back and he continued, "Do you have any idea at all the hell that I went through. Waking up in my dead mothers arms, not able to get away because of rigor mortis had sit in. When I was able to get away I looked for Vergil and all I found was one tennis shoe and a lot of blood."

His eyes had turned from crimson to a deep blackish red as he continued his voice still harsh, "Did you ever care about us? Did you ever love us? Did you love our mother? I should kill you. Kill you and be done with it, and erase the stain that is you from our lives." Keeping his fingers in father's nostrils he pulled him to his feet and flung him across the room and picked up Rebellion from where he had dropped it on the floor and hissed out, "Pick up your sword and prepare to defend yourself. I am going to make you regret every single thing that was done to him. Make you pay for our mother dying to protect us. That was your job you arrogant fuck! Your responsibility to keep us safe."

Father picked his sword up and closed the distance between them and snapped, "You have no idea what you are talking about Dante." Brought his sword around and stood at the ready.

"Then enlighten me oh ancient one." Dante sneered sarcastically.

I heard a snort of laughter behind me and had to roll my lips over my teeth to keep from bursting out laughing. Even though this was a very volatile situation Dante had found a way to ease a little of the scalpel sharp tension that was flooding the room. Sarcasm and a sneer, Dante's trade marks.

Dante started to laugh and said bitterly, "You were supposed to be the man of the house. Not Vergil, not me and definitely not mom."

Those words must have had more impact on father then anything else Dante had said. His sword hit the ground and he hit his knees and howled in pain. I could feel the angry that had been coursing through him start to ebb away as he continued to howl out his own misery. Slowly he started to regain his human form, snow white hair appeared and a leaner body then his demon one was left on the ground and still he screamed. In this form he sounded vulnerable, he sounded human.

He raised his head up and I saw the tears in his eyes and the shattered look on his face. He tried to speak but nothing came out, clearing his throat he tried again. His voice was hoarse from his grief, "I didn't think."

He shook his head sadly opened his mouth to speak but snapped it closed lowered his head and continued to shake it back and forth muttering silently, "I didn't think. I didn't think."

The words that had started out silently started to gain volume as he started to howl and scream, "I didn't think."

Dante opened his mouth to speak and I could tell by the look on his face that it was going to be scathing I held my hand up and shook my head no.

Father looked up at us, his proud and noble face broken, "I honestly didn't think. I didn't think that you would need protecting. I forgot. I forgot that you were part human and I am a twice damned fool."


	25. Chapter 25

_Disclaimer: I do not own the rights to Devil May Cry_

_Authors Note: I am so very sorry that it has taken so long to update. I had some real major real life things happen in the past year. My beloved lid partner of 23 years was diagnosed with cancer. Thank god that it was stage 1, she had surgery and chemo and radiation treatments so my life went on hold during that time. I want to thank everyone who has read and reviewed so far. I am hoping to get more of this done soon. Just remember there are the other short DMC stories that I have written so you can read and review those as well. Also wanted to let you know that even though Vergil and Dante are part angel in this story line, I had had that idea way before the newest DMC game was released or conceived. _

_As always reviews are welcome._

_Entry 25: Sins of the Father_

Father shook his head again and sighed sadly and let out a deep ragged breath, "I don't know where to start. I suppose the best place would be right after I meet your mother."

He waved to us and said, "Please sit, Nero go to your room."

"No." I said, "No, he needs to stay and he needs to hear this." I don't know why I felt this but in my heart I knew that Nero had as much right to hear this as we did. He had a right to know about our father's past and about mine and Dante's mother.

"Very well." Father sighed in resignation and waved his hand indicating that we were to sit. I sat down and leaned against the wall, Dante came over to where I was and nudged my legs apart and scooted in between them. Nero started to sit down on the opposite side of the busted out door frame but stopped when I signaled him over to sit by Dante and I. Plopping down beside me he leaned his head back against the wall and looked indifferent to the whole situation.

"God she was beautiful, and feisty." Father smiled fondly at that memory and continued, "Even though she looked delicate as thistle down she had a sting that was as sharp and deadly as a scorpions when she was riled or as I later found out someone threatened the safety of her children."

"I guess it was because she seemed so strong and capable that I didn't take into consideration that she might also be vulnerable." He looked at Dante and I and asked, "Do you remember the monster in your closet? The one that she tool care of with…ahem… 'extreme prejudice.'"

I smirked and I heard Dante give a snort of laughter, father smiled sadly at us and said, "Ah, so you do. It was things like that that made me never doubt her capabilities. There was also the fact that she was trained by her father and that mean son of a bitch uncle of hers, to hunt down and eradicate evil."

Father paused again and brought his hand up to his chest and rubbed over his heart and laughed, "I never told you boys that she shot me did I? Not only in the heart but in the head as well."

Since I had heard this story from mother earlier that day it didn't shock me. But Dante was hearing it for the first time so his reaction was different then mine, he jumped up and growled, "You take that back! You are a liar, mom would never do something like that."

I reached out and put my hand on his calf and said, "Dante yes she would." He pivoted and glared down at me and I smiled up at him and said, "She told me that she did."

He didn't question me just took me at my word. It was amazing that Dante would assume that father would lie but I wouldn't. Of course his attitude on that stemmed back to when we were children and we would have caused some sort of havoc, mother or father would sit us down and ask us if we had done it.

From a very early age I knew that it was better to tell the truth and pay the consequences at the time then to lie and get caught later and be in even more trouble. There was all that trouble of keeping track of your lies, when there were more important things to think about. Although I do admit that listening to some of the yarns that Dante would spin, I would silently applaud my twin and the quickness of his mind and glibness of his tongue. He was so smooth and confident in his story telling that butter wouldn't melt in his mouth.

Dante plopped backed down to where he had been sitting between my legs, crossed his arms and huffed out, "Fine!"

Father sighed again and he looked so very sad and broken. He shook his head chasing away whatever thought had caused him distress, "Even though I was mostly earthbound I had duties that I had to attend to. There were lesser demons that had somehow slipped through from my hell, and of course there was the ones that are from the other hells that are mentioned in the religions around he world."

Father looked down and brushed the powdered plaster off his legs, "I should have known it was a trap. You don't live as long as I do and not know when something is too easy." He shook his head and let out a deep breath, "But my arrogance got in the way of common sense. I would go on this 'cake walk' and then be home in time to celebrate your birthday."

Father glanced over to where Dante and I were and shook his head sadly, "I went merrily on my way and was captured and…" He sighed then, a grim look crossed his face, propping his elbows on his knees he brought his hands up and cupped his head. When he looked up again tears were misted in his eyes, "I was tortured and held captive. I was the foul betrayer and I would pay for my transgressions. The great and powerful dark knight, Dominic Christoph Sparda brought low."

He looked at me shook his head once more and laughed bitterly, "If what happened to me was even a tenth of what you were subjected to then I am so very sorry my son."

He sighed and continued, "I know that no matter how many times I say it. No matter how many times I apologize, it won't bring her back or erase the past. I could lament I'm sorry for the rest of eternity, but it will not change the past."

His face clouded over in a combination of sorrow and pain, and when he spoke again his voice was soft and broken, "Through all the torture and degradation that I went through, the only thing that kept me sane was the thought of your mother and of you two boys and how very much I loved you."

He looked over at me and sighed, "I heard rumors that one of my sons was being held and I was shown images of what was happening to him. But I didn't believe it. I thought that it was a subtle more creative torture that had been devised to torment me. I had already been shown torturous images of what had happened to my family. Only to be shown different images of them alive and happy."

"Like I already told you I never doubted her capabilities of protecting you and herself. It's not that I didn't try to, but if I had suspected for one minute that it were real I would have fought harder to escape. I would have bartered what little bit of my soul remained for my freedom." Tears started to course down his face and he stammered out, "I thought it was all a lie, a means to drive me insane. I thought that it was a sham, everything that was shown to me, revealed, everything…except for seeing my family alive and happy."

He was silent for what seemed like an eternity but in fact was only a few minutes, "Your mother and I had worked out a system, that if I were gone for too long that she was to move, and that I would find her. She knew where I had hidden my riches so she would not be dissolute and relying on someone else for her wellbeing although she never used any of it, saying that before me she had managed to be self-sufficient and she could damn well take care of herself and her boys if something were to happen to me."

He chuckled darkly and said, "Before I left I told her to use my fortune while I was gone. Looking back now I realize that it was more of an order then my asking her. I had 'old world mannerisms' and even though I had seen the equal rights movement in full action, had been there when and celebrated right along with those lovelies when they pulled their bras off and burned them. But I digress in my tale, I had ordered this strong independent woman to let me the 'big strong man' take care of her, after all she was a fragile woman."

"Needless to say we got into a hellacious fight and she told me in no uncertain terms to do something that is physically impossible even for a devil. She called me an obtuse overbearing Neanderthal and told me to get the hell out and to come back when I grew up and realized that she was not some little helpless half brained twit that couldn't take care of herself. I tried to apologize but she pulled out Ebony and Ivory and told me again to get out of her house or she would shoot off my reason for living."

"I gathered the shreds of my dignity and I left." Father paused in the telling looks of pain and sorrow crossed his handsome face he sighed and continued, "As I said I was captured and tortured," he gave me a pained look and whispered, "I don't want to even imagine what happened to you my son, but if it were anything like what I endured then I am truly sorry."

"I won't sugar coat how I managed to escape I used an opportunity that presented itself." I saw his eyes travel over to where Nero was and saw a half smile tug at his mouth. "There was a woman, named Nyrus, who was a hybrid, half human half demon, she wanted something from me and I in turn wanted something from her, my freedom. If I would have had a soul I would have traded it to her for the end to my enslavement. Since I didn't I offered her wealth beyond anyone's imagination. She laughed at me and said she didn't want wealth, she wanted something a little more," He paused for dramatic effect,… "personal."

Father bowed his head and continued, "I told her that I couldn't give her my heart, that it had already been claimed. She snorted as said to me that she didn't want something so plebian. She didn't want my promise of undying love or anything so human. What she wanted was, well, uhm how do I say this delicately?"

Before he could find the appropriate words Dante let out an exasperated snort and said, "For the love of god dad, just spit it out."

Father's head snapped up and he glared at Dante, "I was trying to come up with a way to say that she wanted me to have sexual relations with her and not embarrass either you or myself young man." He must of realized what he had just said because his face turned bright red.

Nero stuttered out, "Wha…wha…what?" I looked over at my little brother and saw that he too was bright red.

Dante being Dante, crowed, "You boned her didn't you?"

Father did a classic face palm and shook his head back and forth and sighed, "If that is the vernacular that is being used now then yes, I boned her. It wasn't making love, it was just a good old fashioned," and he said a word that I never thought I would hear my father say, "fucking. It was a double physical release for me. One being pent up sexual frustration and the other having the chains that bound me removed."

He didn't pause long enough for Dante, Nero or I to say anything but continued, "I escaped and came back to look for my beloved wife and my boys only to find devastation. I swear to you I searched for you. But there was no trace of any of you. I left that are and came here and built this house and became a recluse. Then eleven months after I had escaped and had taken myself off the grid, Nyrus showed up at my door and thrust a baby in my arms and said, 'Here, he's your son and I don't want him.' And she left."

He looked at us again and smiled a combination of joy and sadness, "There I was with this baby in my arms and I thought that here I had been given another chance at being a father and this time I wasn't going to mess it up. I raised Nero as a single parent happy in the joy that even though he wasn't mine and my beloved Eva's son he was still mine. Time passed and I started hearing word that a new hells gate had opened and yes even though I was compelled to go and do what I felt was my duty, I didn't want to leave my son. I couldn't have handled loosing him as well. But in those rumors that I heard I also caught bits that humanity had a new champion, a champion that was fighting the demons and other ilk that was pouring out of this hells gate. At first I ignored it then when the talk turned to it being two champions my curiosity got the better of me and I had to go and find out for myself."

He stood walked through the ruin of his room and knelt down in front of us and said softly, "And you know the rest. How I brought my boys here to be with me."


End file.
